


Blessed Be The Boys Time Can't Capture

by rey_swann



Category: Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Asexual Character, Best Friends, Drinking, Eventual Sex, Gangsters, Gay, Gay Sex, Getting Back Together, Getting Together, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Relationship(s), its the 1920s but not really, mention of Rape non-con is minor, mentions of sobriety, modern day i promise, someone gets drunk that shouldnt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:02:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 29,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24332497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rey_swann/pseuds/rey_swann
Summary: Pete Wentz is planning something huge and Patrick can't figure out what it is. It involves a group of their friends, A weekend at an old mansion and threatening them all with a good time. The question is, will everything work out as planned or will all of Pete's dreams, including gaining Patrick's love, fall through?
Relationships: Andy Hurley/Joe Trohman, Frank Iero/Gerard Way, Josh Dun/Tyler Joseph, Patrick Stump/Pete Wentz, Ryan Ross/Brendon Urie
Comments: 15
Kudos: 24





	1. Which Came First, The Music Or The Misery?

**Author's Note:**

> The only thing I have to say for now is an explanation of; All the guys are not with their respective women because of the set up of my story - They never existed in the guy's lives so no one was hurt because they just never met them or were interested romantically/sexually and therefor did not have children either. The only exception is Gerard and Lyn-z are together at first for the plot line I came up with for this. I, personally mean no disrespect for them as a couple or people individually and would never express that to them (or any of the guys) via social media. I know all of the guy's Wives/Girlfriends/significant others are very loved and respected by the fans and I am not trying to take that away. This is just my fictional story, simple as that. Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoy! Comments of any kind are loved and appreciated! ~ Rey

  
  
  
  
  


“Pete, could you come in here and take a look at this? This verse...it's just not working!” 

Patrick gave him a minute, but when his best friend didn't at least poke his head around the corner, he had to go retrieve him, otherwise this demo was never getting done.  
Pushing up out of his chair, his brain was stuck on wondering what was so important to the older man that he would ignore him.

He supposed Pete could have passed out on the worn leather couch since he'd explained earlier that morning what little sleep he had gotten. There was also a good chance he put earbuds in once Patrick had gone into the sound booth. Patrick on occasion wasn't in a great mood coming in or out of recording, so he didn't blame Pete for wanting to shut him out. 

When the short, blond man came around the corner to see Pete sitting very much alert staring at the same small notebook he had seen him with all week, he – well, he wasn't that surprised at all.  
That very same journal had become a staple for Pete in the last few days. He didn't go anywhere without it as if the thing were his latest fashion statement. 

As Patrick watched him, there was a realization that he hadn't seen Pete writing like that in a long time. Shoving his hands in his pockets and leaning his shoulder against the door casing, Patrick began taking his own notes. Every so often, Pete would turn the pages and stare, or make little markings here and there. Not knowing what it was for was really starting to bother Patrick. 

~

Not until the next day did Patrick's thoughts fall back to Pete's journal and it's contents.  
Pete came in and had a seat at the table, dropping an armload of his stuff at his place as he took a sip from his Starbucks.  
“Hey, I'll be back in just a minute.”  
Patrick nodded, looking up at him but unable to ignore the pink tinted Venti iced coffee sitting on the table, already leaving a wet ring.  
He shuddered at the thought of what Pete could have possibly asked the Barrista to add to it. 

Patrick took a long sip from his own mug of tea as his finger stayed on his laptop mouse.  
He grinned at a memory from years ago that taught him to never send Pete to Starbucks with an order. It either came back cold, mis-flavored, or mostly staining whatever Decaydance sweatshirt Pete was wearing that day. 

The click of the studio door had Patrick's focus back on the man in the present and wasn't surprised to see what item it was he had 'forgotten' in the car. 

He briefly debated on opening his mouth right then and asking him about the notebook. It was more than likely about music, and if so, he had a right to know.  
If it was personal, with everything they had been through together, he still had a right to know. 

Just as his lips parted, Pete stood up for a second time, heading toward the bathroom. And it was not lost on the singer that the object of his concern was laying right out in the open. 

It was eating at him, not knowing what Pete was up to and what was going on in his mind.  
A deep concern had manifested within the last few days that Patrick hadn't even realized until now.  
All of that could be cleared up in a matter of minutes if he just stood up, walked around the table and peered over the- 

No.  
This was wrong. 

There was no way he was going to betray Pete's trust like that. Although, if that was his journal, Pete would have had the whole thing memorized by now. 

Patrick dropped back down on the couch, head in his hands as the guilt swept over him for even considering spying on his best friend. 

“Were you reading my book?”  
Patrick's eyes met Pete's instantly and he felt ten times worse as he took in the concerned expression; more concerned than usual. 

“No!” Patrick cried, standing up as his voice hitched as if he indeed had done precisely that and was lying to his best friend's face.  
'Never.' he told himself. He would never do that.  
“Honestly, I didn't....I wouldn't!”  
Pete nodded solemnly and had a seat back down to stare at the journal, making Patrick wonder if they were going to get any music related things done, or if this was just their new routine.  
“I wanted to, though.”  
Pete's head snapped up and Patrick felt his eyes on him as the guilt rose again.  
“But you didn't...right?”  
A cloud of anxiousness seemed to fill the space Pete was in and Patrick took a big chance by coming over to join him, closer.  
“You know I wouldn't do that to you”, he said, boring blue into brown.  
Pete smiled, picking up his weird, now watery coffee, and sipping through the green straw.  
“Now...can we please work on the new song?” 

The next day, Patrick showed up at noon to the studio. Pete's car was already in the lot and he could already take a wild guess as to what he'd find the man doing.  
“Hey, when you get your stuff in, come take a look at this set of lyrics.”  
Patrick probably stared at Pete for a minute straight seeing him on his laptop working instead of pouring over papers.  
“Uh, yeah. Of course.”  
Patrick came over just as Pete was closing out a window. He did a double take at the bold words on the screen: 1920 CENSUS. His odd glance to his right was missed by his friend's excitement over his development of their music, but Patrick wasn't about to forget his own confusion. 

As Pete babbled on about what had inspired him last night to change – no, fix – the song, Patrick couldn't come up with a sensible reason for Pete's internet search. The bassist was known for having weird questions, and even stranger inquiries for Google, but this had to be the oddest.  
Not once had Pete ever expressed interest in that particular time period and for what ever reason this had Patrick reeling. Pete latched onto new muses constantly, but something about this just felt different.

“So what do you think?”  
Patrick turned to stare at him, blinking rapidly as he realized he hadn't even been looking at what was on the screen.  
“I'm sorry, Pete. I was somewhere else for a second. Tell me again.”  
Pete just shook his head with a chuckle as he pulled the document back up. 

It was always amazing to Patrick how forgiving Pete had become, how he never tired of talking about what went on inside his head.  
Patrick grinned, actually listening this time and agreed to input the new verse as soon as they got back from lunch. 

The moment they were back in the studio, Patrick headed right back into the sound booth, not wanting to waste any time getting this done so they could show it off to Joe and Andy for their approval. He hoped they wouldn't hate them for keeping this from them.

Especially Joe. 

Patrick took a deep breath, knowing he had to clear his head to record. 

When Patrick came back out into the main area after twenty minutes, he was beaming, so proud of the song and how it turned out.  
“Pete, come listen to this, it's- “ Patrick paused as he saw Pete clutching the famous journal and banging his head on the table.  
Patrick frowned, seeing the inner turmoil inside Pete and knew what he needed to do.  
Pete startled as he felt a hand on his arm and a soft voice in his ear with a familiar tune.  
“I got troubled thoughts and the self esteem to match...what a catch”  
Pete sat up and smiled at his best friend in the entire world, knowing exactly what he was thinking.  
“Are you okay?” Patrick asked, staring into sad brown eyes.  
“Yes,” Pete responded, tossing the book on the table so forcefully, that it almost slid off the other side. “Just stressed.”

Patrick moved the hand on Pete's arm up to rest on his back and rubbed gently.  
“What about?”  
Pete let out a loud sigh and Patrick knew immediately it was over what ever was in that damn book.  
“Are you gonna make fun of me?” Pete asked.  
“I might,” Patrick grinned, “if the appropriate moment arises.”  
He watched Pete debating internally for a second before getting up and stretching across the table to get the book, pulling it back toward them by a finger.  
“I've been planning something.”  
Patrick's eyebrows raised as he could only imagine what this could possibly be.  
Pete flipped through the worn papers, finally deciding on a page and Patrick's heart actually skipped as he turned the writing toward him.  
“It's a...list of people we know...these are all friends of ours. I dunno, Pete, I'm not really following.”  
Patrick was getting more concerned. He thought when he finally got to have a look in the 'secret notebook' he would understand but that was just not the case.  
“No...I'm- “ Pete cut himself off before thumbing through the pages again. “Here.”  
Patrick took a glance at another page and his brow creased.  
“Who in the world is Leon Lamont? He sounds like a sketchy record label exec.”  
Pete laughed, making Patrick feel a little better as it echoed off the walls.  
“You're looking at him.” 

Patrick set the book down and rubbed over his forehead before meeting the eyes of the man he'd known most of his life.  
Or thought he knew. 

“You've been lying to us this whole time, or - “  
“No, not like that. Listen, I wanna throw a party.”  
Patrick's brow raised again, and he felt like by the time Pete finished explaining everything, it would be his permanent expression.  
“A party?” he confirmed. “That's what's gotten you all worked up?”  
Pete nodded, searching through his notes.  
“Yeah, but this isn't just any party,” Pete continued.  
“I gathered that...”  
“It's...different. Lots of famous groups and companies have these kind of parties.”  
“Okay, and that's why you want to have this party?”  
Pete nodded again, holding open a page for Patrick to consider.  
“A Murder Mystery Party.”  
Patrick's mouth opened to speak but nothing came out.  
“Here. Here's the rest of the guest list.”  
Patrick took the whole thing from Pete and read all the bizarre names and scribbles on the page.  
“Why?”  
Pete grinned, “I was hoping you would ask me that. Take a good look who's on the guest list and tell me what you see.”  
“Pete, I see our friends! And colleagues, essentially.”  
“Yes...but?”  
“But, they– some of these people don't even want to be in the same room as each other!”  
Pete laughed, his smile filling his eyes this time.  
“Yes, but they should.”  
Patrick shook his head, “I'm not following.”  
“These people, our friends, they deserve a second chance at love. Or a chance, period.”  
Patrick eyed him as if he had grown another head and that was the one all these crazy ideas were spilling out of.  
“Joe and Andy?!”  
“Oh,” Pete chuckled, “they just have to come.”  
Patrick stared at the list again in disbelief.  
“Isn't this like 'shipping'? I'm not sure how I feel about this.”  
Pete rolled his eyes gently.  
“It isn't shipping if it's our friends,” Pete assured him, as he pointed to one of the 'couples' on the list. “Besides, don't you agree those two deserve this the most?”  
Patrick sighed, unable to deny it. “Yes, they do...but at what expense?”  
“Not a whole lot,” Pete continued. “I have a couple places I wanted to check out but I was hoping you'd come with me?”  
Patrick looked away as soon as Pete turned on the puppy dog eyes.  
“I'm not agreeing to anything yet. But that's not the kind of expense I was referring to. I meant, what if they all end up hating you for this?”  
“We're gonna supply them all with free food and booze for the weekend, they can't be too pissed.” Pete chuckled and Patrick could tell he was slipping back into this crazy dream.  
“Not 'we'. I haven't agreed to anything yet.”  
Pete frowned, leaning over to rest his head on the blond's shoulder. “I thought everything we did was 'we'?”  
Patrick sighed, those words pulling at his heartstrings. “Of course it is.”  
“So...?”  
“So I'll go with you to see the property. Where is it?”  
Pete sat up straight and flipped the pages with such speed, Patrick thought he'd rip them out of the book.  
“There's actually three.”  
“Three? Well then I'm definitely coming with you because if I don't you'll just Face Time me from each one and try to get me to pick.”  
Pete's huge grin made all the confusion and frustration worth it and Patrick ended up with his own smile as Pete threw his arms around him, pressing a kiss to his cheek as the blond grimaced.  
“Now, can we please get to work on this song?!” 

“Are we going to get for real murdered? I feel like we are.”  
Pete let out a warm chuckle as he stared up at the massive gray tone house with glee. “Nah, c'mon. I wanna go check it out!”  
Patrick's eyes shifted as he watched Pete's back, jogging up the steps to the door. 

The large old set of keys clanged loudly as Pete fought with them in the door, finally hearing a creak as it unlocked and swung open.  
Pete stepped immediately into the expansive foyer, leaving Patrick to stare in horror from the porch.  
“C'mon 'Trick, I'll protect you,” Pete promised and Patrick rolled his eyes, following his lead. 

The exterior was a lot more intimidating from the outside and Patrick began to relax as he watched his best friend taking it all in. 

Pete headed almost instantly to the double doors on the left and threw them open to reveal a large formal sitting area.  
“Wow” Patrick barely heard himself say as Pete was shuffling around the edge of the room, touching every authentic decoration.  
If he did that in every room, they'd be there all night and most of tomorrow. 

Patrick just shook his head with a small smile on his face as he stepped back toward the doorway, leaning on the frame, imagining all those tattooed musicians here.  
“Let me in on the joke, “ Pete whined as he rejoined his best friend whose laughter was echoing up into the foyer.  
“No, it's just...is this where our friends really want to 'vacation' for the weekend?”  
“You know, I wondered that too, but it's a party. It's a fancy party that will fix their lives, okay? They'll just have to deal.”  
Patrick's laughter grew as he trailed behind Pete who promptly demanded they go up and check out the bedrooms. He couldn't get over how Pete could be thoughtless and caring at the same time; it was like some kind of art form. 

Patrick was confused as they passed the second floor and headed up to the next level where there was one bedroom and a couple of smaller rooms.  
“This is the hosts' room, I guess,” Pete said as he and Patrick entered the room with a king size four poster bed and a grand balcony that looked out into the spacious back lawn.  
Patrick observed Pete as he ran a finger over one of the mahogany wood posts and his eyes caught on the silk bedspread, the deep purple color quite fitting, he figured. 

Pete had since disappeared into the bathroom as Patrick let himself explore a little bit, too.  
“This is wild,” he heard from the other room and it put another smile on his face. 

Pete wasn't wrong.  
This entire concept was wild.  
It was very impressive to him how Pete put all this together, created all of the personas and decided the plot lines.  
The 'Who's Who' was enough to put his head in a tailspin and it was finally starting to occur to him how epic this party really was.  
“Did you look out back yet?” Patrick asked as Pete emerged from exploring. “It looks like it's big enough for what we need.”  
“Really?” Pete beamed, going over to the closed balcony doors. “I wanna go check out the guest rooms and the ballroom.”  
Patrick nodded; he was in charge.  
This was all Pete. 

“I'm going to offer up it's an improvement on that other one from this morning.” Patrick said, having a seat on the third step of the staircase as Pete closed the double doors to the dining room.  
He let out a chuckle that had a hint of bitterness as he recalled all the problems that one had.  
“The guest room doors that wouldn't shut, the closed off library that I doubt had any real books in it..you're talking about the one in Montecito Heights?”  
“That tiny kitchen...” Patrick added, nodding.  
“And the weird stench in the basement ballroom.”  
“I can never un-smell that! Stunk worse than our original tour van!” Patrick exclaimed.  
Pete doubled over laughing on the step next to him. “You're forgetting the best part of that house...”  
“The maid!” The blond shuddered, scooting closer.  
“The live-in maid was a bonus with the rental agreement,” Pete recalled. “If anyone was going to murder us, it would've been her.”  
“Yeah, and I'm pretty sure she was judging us the whole time.”  
“What for?” Pete replied.  
“I think she thought we were a gay couple,” Patrick clarified. “In fact, I know she did. She told me I could get someone a lot better for me than you and that she had a hot granddaughter.”  
Pete laughed, though Patrick could tell he was mildly offended.  
“I think she didn't like your tattoos.” Patrick added.  
“You should've gotten the girl's number,” Pete teased, bumping his knees with Patrick's.  
The shorter man rolled his eyes, missing the frown that followed Pete's joke.  
“No, thank you. Honestly, I'd take you over a creepy maid lady's potentially just as creepy family member, any day.”  
Pete grinned as something else occurred to him.  
“If she is so homophobic, why is that her job? Who else is going to rent a house like that in LA? Of course it would be a gay couple!”  
Patrick cracked up, agreeing with him, as a wave of comfortable silence fell over them as they took in the foyer from this angle.  
“So,” Pete finally said, “does this feel like home?”  
“I don't know, Leon,” Patrick grinned, “does it?”  
“Well, Emmett...I think it does!”


	2. Favorite Record

“Did you get any sleep last night?”

Patrick watched Pete from his seat at the dining room table.  
His focus had been on an article about their old music from Alternative Press but with the way Pete was bouncing around the room it was difficult to concentrate. 

“What do you think the answer to that is?” Pete replied, the bags under his eyes looking more designer than usual.

“You do realize this is going much better than I thought it would.” Patrick offered 

Pete finally sat down, taking a sip from his third cup of coffee.  
Or was it fourth? 

“The actual party hasn't even started yet,” Pete worried, rolling a pen around on the tabletop. 

“I know, but honestly, it's this kind of stuff I'm concerned with. The rental agreements, food, making sure everything is in order like this,” Patrick explained. “We can distract our friends on Friday. This stuff is happening now.”

Pete let out a nervous chuckle and nodded, knowing he needed to listen to his best friend. 

Patrick shut his laptop to give Pete his full attention, placing a hand over his on the table. 

“You know I couldn't do this without you,” Pete blushed, glancing down, his eyes catching the note on Patrick's character page that he hadn't filled him in on yet. 

“I know,” Patrick gloated, patting his hand and pulling away. “Now, we need to read these RSVPs.” 

“We?” 

“Yes, 'We',” Patrick grinned. “Now get to it.” 

Pete picked up the one off the top, running his hand over the return address label that read Tyler Joseph.  
“What if no one wants to come?” 

Patrick watched Pete's face fall as he thought about what this would do to him after all the work he put into it. 

“Then,” Patrick paused, thinking about what would cheer Pete up, “then you and I will have this creepy place to ourselves and we can have the weirdest mini-vacation-slash-weekend-long-jam-session you can imagine.” 

Pete's laughter echoed up into the tall ceilings as he turned his attention back to the envelopes.  
“Sounds good to me.” 

Patrick held his breath as Pete pulled two postcards from the envelope. 

Pete's eyes darted across the paper. “They're coming.” 

Patrick beamed, letting out a sigh of relief, knowing Pete had to be feeling better already. “They're coming?” 

“Yeah, Josh and Tyler's are in here together.” Pete confirmed.

“I guess we have a party to plan, then.” 

Pete grinned, looking at the cards in disbelief, hoping the rest were yeses, too. 

Patrick's phone rang, interrupting the opening of the next card. “Keep going, I have to take this. It's the guitar repair guy from Gretsch.” 

Pete nodded as Patrick walked away into the foyer, leaving him alone. He skipped the next one, opening a few more before going back to that one.  
There was no surprise at the answer to the invitation, only disappointment. After checking all the rest, and with only a couple saying they couldn't stay the whole weekend, Pete took out his own phone to make a call. 

The dining room was empty when Patrick came back in from his call. He had good news about the guitars he and Joe had dropped off the other day, but all of that was forgotten when he saw Pete wasn't there.

He hoped all the envelopes held good news for their -  
Pete's. For Pete's party. 

Patrick shook his head at how easily he'd gotten invested in this, but it wasn't difficult when he saw how his best friend lit up at the idea.  
This singer figured he ought to check out the invite responses either way. The papers might give him a clue where Pete went, but more importantly right now, it would tell him how well received this all was.  
On top sat the one invitation he knew Pete was hoping for the most and it had a big X in the 'CANNOT ATTEND' box. Patrick slumped back against the chair, hoping Pete wasn't taking this too hard. 

~

“Ryan? Ryan Ross? It's Pete Wentz.” Pete knew his voice was off but hoped the younger man couldn't hear it on the other line. “I was hoping you had a minute.”  
There was silence on the other end. 

'You know I still have your number, Pete,' Ryan's soft voice came through. 'You don't have to be so formal.' 

Pete grinned as memories of what felt like a hundred years ago came flooding back.  
“At least I didn't use my full name.” He could practically hear the eye roll from Ryan. 

'I'd still be here listening to it,' Ryan scoffed. 'It's longer than your song titles.'

Both guys laughed, happy to just be talking after such a long time. 

“Longer than my d- “ Pete began, getting cut off. 

'Why did you call me, Pete?' Ryan asked, and Pete could tell he'd gotten a smirk at the very least from his previous comment. 'Surely it wasn't just to have lame phone sex?'

Pete chuckled again, deciding to get straight to the point. “I'm calling because you rejected the invitation to my party.” 

Another second of silence. 

“Ryan?” 

'Yeah...uh, sorry, I didn't realize that was your party. The card never gave any indication or had your name.'

“Sorry about that. I'm trying to keep this on the down low and so far, you're the only person I've had to tell.”

Ryan sighed, making the microphone static in Pete's ear. 'So, I'm your only 'No' in other words?'

“Ryan, all I can say is this is a very important party and your part is very important,” Pete tried.

'You just want me there to play the role.' Ryan's frown was heard, as well as another roll of his eyes, Pete was sure. 'Is 'Aristotle' going to be there?'

Pete's heart caught in his throat as he was unsure how to answer this question. Surely Ryan didn't know.

“Yes, “ Pete gave in. “'Aristotle' RSVP'd already.” 

'Pete, I'm sorry but I think you wasted your time calling me.' 

“Ryan, wait! Please don't hang up!” Pete warned. “I promise you'll have a good time! It's a pretty big place we're having it at so you won't even have to talk to anybody else.” 

'Pete-' Ryan tried, but Pete just kept going. 

“There'll be lots of good food and vintage clothes. If you come, I'll let you keep the costumes.” 

'That's just mean, Pete,' Ryan huffed. 

“You want mean? I can't believe you won't come to my party after I took a chance on you all those years ago and signed you to my record label.” 

Ryan chuckled bitterly. 'I knew you'd use that against me one day.'

“I'm not blackmailing. I _want_ you to want to come to my party,” Pete offered. “I just want to make sure you _come_ to my party.” 

Ryan's voice and the sounds in the background sounded quite pained.  
'How about this,' he finally replied. 'I'll think about it. I'll consider coming to your party.'

Pete leaped up from his seat on the sofa in the front room.  
“Yes! Thank you! That's all I could ask.” 

'You're damn right,' Ryan said, but Pete was too busy rejoicing to care. 

“I will see you on Friday, then!” 

'Possibly,' Ryan reminded him. 'Probably not...I did have other plans, you know.' 

Pete doubted that, due to the tone with which it was said.  
“Well these plans are better, I promise.” 

'Keep dreaming, Wentz.' Ryan retorted. 

“I will,” Pete grinned. “I gotta get back to those party preparations but I look forward to seeing you at Lamont Manor.” 

'I'm sure you are.'

“I am. I've missed you and your fancy words,” Pete admitted. 

Ryan lightened up a bit at that. 'Same here, honestly.'

Pete found himself grinning again.  
“So, I'll talk to you soon?” 

'Depends,' Ryan replied, and Pete could tell he was smiling again, too. 

“On?” 

'How much I want to let you down.'

Pete frowned, choosing his next words carefully.  
“Think about it this way. It's about how much you don't want to let yourself down.” 

Ryan's chuckle still had the same tone as before.

'Well, then I'll never show up because I think way more of you than I do of myself.' Ryan admitted.

“Good, so that means you'll be here?”

'You should've shown up at my door, Pete. We both know I could never say no to you in person.'

“Yeah,” Pete sighed as Ryan's words hit him hard as if nostalgia slapped him itself. “I know.” 

'Alright, Peter, I'm gonna have to let you go,' Ryan offered, 'I have stuff I gotta get to anyway.'

“That's cool,” Pete replied. "And look. Whether you come or not, it's been nice talking to you. Don't be such a stranger.” 

'I won't...bye, bye.'

“Bye, Ryan.” 

~

Patrick tapped the edge of the pen on the chair as he glanced from the twelve seats back to the twelve names on Pete's guest list.  
It felt weird at first, taking over like this, but it wasn't long before Patrick started to experience a sense of belonging within Pete's made up story.  
Maybe it was taking charge of the seating chart, maybe it was the fact that Pete already had set them both at the head of the table. 

Like hosts.  
Together.  
Together as if they were- 

Pete's footsteps interrupted a very interesting thought which he soon forgot when he saw the bright grin on the older man's face. 

“I'm pretty sure I fixed it.” 

“Fixed what?” Patrick asked. 

Pete held up Ryan Ross's RSVP. “Brendon Urie's love life.” 

~

“I made a list of everything wrong so far. We need to get the owners here tomorrow and talk to them since the caterers will be done tonight,” Patrick explained.

“Mmhmm, I got some stuff here too in my book that I want them to look at,” Pete added. “I don't think the 'Twenty One' room has enough pillows.” 

Patrick chuckled. “I was more concerned with the leaky shower in the one down on the end.” 

“It's two nights, whoever it is can just deal.” 

“Just don't put Joe down there." Patrick reminded him, "We'll never hear the end of it.” 

Pete smirked, “Yeah, I've been worrying about that. I kinda want to start a drinking game on how many times he complains about stuff while he's here.” 

“He'd like that, actually, but Andy wouldn't!” 

“True.” Pete agreed. “Also I don't think we'd last too long as much as Joe comments on things!”

“You wanna remember your own party, don't you?” Patrick teased, bending over to pick up a name plate that had fallen off the door.  
When he turned back to Pete, he'd missed the path his eyes had taken up and down the seam of the back of his jeans. 

“Yes,” Pete swallowed dryly. “I definitely want to remember this party.” 

~

“Thanks for coming down here with me. It creeps me out by myself.” 

Patrick grinned at his best friend as they took the stairs to the ballroom.  
“I thought you were the one who was going to protect me?” 

“Right,” said Pete, placing his arms around Patrick's waist, “I can't protect you if you're upstairs, duh.” 

Patrick pushed Pete's hands away as the slightly taller man gave him a wink. 

The blond completely turned away then, telling himself someone needed to check the balcony doors or the tables that were set up.  
Anything facing away from his tan, muscular friend who was reaching up to the hidden speaker system, making his bat tattoo very visible under the hem of his sweatshirt. 

“Is it warm in here?” Patrick asked, as the faint sound of music came from the readjusted speakers. “Do we have air conditioning in here?” 

Pete turned back to Patrick as the blond shed his sweater, fanning himself. 

“I'm comfortable,” Pete shrugged, turning back to the record player. “I can add it to the list if you want.” 

Pete fiddled with the volume level and Patrick beamed, looking up from one of the tables. 

“Is that 'Sugar'? he asked.

Pete nodded proudly. 

The bassist had let him in on his plan to instrumentalize their songs and get a record. At first he wasn't sure how it would sound but it turned out well. 

“That's wild,” Patrick whispered out loud, not even realizing Pete was by his side until he extended a hand. 

“Emmett Costello, 'Rickster von Stump, may I have this dance?”

Patrick smiled, shaking his head. “Hell no! You know I can't dance!”

Pete pouted, taking his hand in his. “C'mon, we need the practice.” 

Patrick gave him a very skeptical look before giving in and taking his hand. 

“I feel like I'm going to regret this.” 

Pete smirked, “I'll make sure you don't.” 

Patrick tried to stay far enough apart but Pete wasn't interested in being proper. He yanked Patrick as close as he could get him, causing a tiny yelp to escape the shorter man's lips. 

“Is this really necessary, Pete?” Patrick wondered out loud as he felt his face heat up. 

“Of course it is!” Pete grinned. “You and I have only danced like this once, remember?”

“At Brendon's fake wedding. Yes, I remember. I thought that was just a joke since I was your plus one.” 

“Yeah, that marriage was a joke. I still don't know how I let him go through with that.” 

“I meant the dancing was a joke,” Patrick snickered. “And stop blaming yourself for that. Brendon's career bounced back fine.” 

“The dancing, Mr.Stump, wasn't a joke to me. I enjoyed every minute of it.” 

Patrick bit his lip to keep from grinning too much.  
“You're just saying that.” 

Pete shook his head, leaning in closer as the song switched over to what Patrick swore was a piano version of Phoenix. 

“I'm not,” Pete said low, his lips brushing against Patrick's ear. “I'm saying it because I know how perfectly you fit in my arms.” 

Patrick let out a gentle gasp as he felt Pete's hand on the small of his back as they swayed to the music.  
And yes, that was most definitely Phoenix.  
Patrick found himself resting his head on Pete's shoulder, just as the large clock chimed out on the hour.

He pulled back quickly from Pete and the older man had a frown on his face.  
“What's- “

“The caterers! They were supposed to be here _now_!” Patrick reminded him., dropping Pete's hands. “We need to get back upstairs.” 

Pete sighed, making his way over to the record player to turn it off. 

“I still can't believe you claim to have no dancing skills after that.” 

Patrick shook his head, realizing Pete's mind was stuck on their moment just now and not their meeting with the people who were actually going to feed their guests. 

“Why does it matter? I still don't think I can sing and I sing 'cause you want me to.” 

Pete shook his head. “You are the best singer I have ever heard and you know it. When I don't want to listen to our stuff, do you realize how much I listen to Soul Punk?” 

Patrick blushed as he joined him on the landing; he was thankful for the low lighting. 

“No one listens to Soul Punk, Pete.” Patrick replied, following after him. 

“I do.” 

Patrick paused, turning back to look at Pete in the hallway where the sun was shining through the porch door windows.  
He was focusing so hard on him that it must have appeared to Pete that he was frozen there.  
Patrick was taken aback by the swell of pride inside at knowing Pete liked his music.  
It was as if he didn't care who else liked the album; his best friend did, and that's all that mattered. 

Patrick opened his mouth to say something else as a loud knock from the front door cut him off.  
“C'mon, let's go taste some food.” 

~

Patrick had a seat next to Pete at the head of the table as the caterers disappeared back into the kitchen to give them space to talk. 

“I'm confused already,” Pete admitted, pulling a tray towards him. 

“Those are options for dinners and here's a list of the rest of what they can serve.” Patrick explained.

Pete's brow furrowed as he stared at the chicken dinner plate sitting in front of him. “Can't we just serve pizza for every meal?” 

Patrick chuckled, stabbing a potato with a fork. “Unfortunately, we cannot. Wow, these are really good.” 

“Try some of these,” Pete offered, pushing a plate of meatballs toward Patrick. 

“Damn, those are good, too,” Patrick grinned, as Pete shoved an entire spoonful of soup into his own mouth. 

“Is this too fancy for us?” Patrick wondered. 

“Yes,” Pete replied around a mouthful, “but we are supposed to be these well-to-do people.” 

Patrick considered that.  
“And do we really have to try all this right now?” Patrick joked, “It's not like we're getting married and this is a wedding.” 

Pete hesitated, letting awkward laughter escape as Patrick chuckled also. 

“Actually...,” Pete said, picking up his water glass and taking a sip, “there's one thing I forgot to tell you.” 

Patrick coughed, choking on his own water as he could only assume where his best friend was going with this. 

“We're supposed to be husbands.” 

Patrick's eyes widened. 

“To the caterers?!” He pointed back at the kitchen door, “they think we're husbands?! What, did you get some kind of deal?” 

Pete grinned, setting his napkin on the table.  
“No, I meant,” he sighed, not wanting this to go badly, “Leon and Emmett are husbands. You're playing my husband for the weekend.” 

Patrick let out a sigh of relief. “Oh,” he took another sip of water, “that's fine.” 

“Really?” Pete beamed. 

“I have no problem with that,” Patrick said. “What I do have a problem with is you dropping this on me now. I need time to get into character.” 

Pete laughed to disguise his relief, taking another bite of the chicken. 

“Most people think we're husbands anyway so it shouldn't be too difficult.”  
He actually got a laugh out of Patrick at that just as the caterers were bringing out the dessert choices.  
They gave them a quick run down of the options before leaving them to make their decisions. 

“Don't forget to talk to them about Andy's menu,” Patrick reminded. 

“Yeah,” Pete replied, clearly having forgotten, “and Frank's vegetarian.” 

Patrick nodded. 

“The only other thing I know is Josh doesn't like bananas.”

"Neither does Tyler."

Pete was jotting notes in his journal beside him and it was finally starting to occur to Patrick that this was real. 

“You know...I haven't been this excited for something since I recorded Sunshine Riptide.” 

Pete dropped his pen, turning quickly to the blond. 

“I want this to go over well,” Patrick continued. “I really do. And I don't want you to think I'm taking credit for any of this because I'm not, I just...I want you to know how proud I am to be a part of this. I know I was apprehensive at first but- “ 

Pete cut him off by pulling him into a hug.

After a moment, Patrick swore he felt a sniffle into his shoulder and he relaxed into the hug knowing now how important this was to Pete. 

“I'm so glad you're excited, too,” Pete said pulling back to dry his eyes on his t-shirt. “To share this with you means so much to me and I really couldn't do this without you.” 

Patrick grinned. “Apparently not. When were you planning on letting me in on the little secret that we're 'married'?” 

“...Friday morning.” 

Patrick just stared at him for a minute before they both cracked up, leaning back against the tall, elegant chairs. 

“Here,” Pete said pushing a plate in Patrick's direction, “join me for some lemon cake?” 

Patrick picked up the second fork. “Don't mind if I do.”


	3. Is This More Than You Bargained For Yet?

“This has been like the shortest week, I swear.” 

Pete grinned as Patrick stepped in off the porch and into the now familiar foyer. 

“Yeah, really.” said Pete, “Maybe not as bad as the week in between filming Rat-a-Tat  
for _Young Blood Chronicles_ when we had that show to get to.”

Patrick shook his head in agreement. “Nothing's been worse than that so far.” He crossed his fingers.   
“I'm going to take this stuff up and then I'll come help you with that sofa you wanted moved.” 

Pete nodded, turning back to call up to Patrick who was halfway to the landing. 

“Oh, and Patrick?” 

Patrick paused, “Yeah?” 

“All Emmett's stuff is up there. I didn't know what side of the dresser thing you wanted so I haven't put my stuff away yet, it's laying on the bed. Just take where ever you want.”

Patrick let out an odd chuckle, “Alright, sounds good. Thanks, Pete.”   
The blond whirled around, pointing a finger at his best friend. 

“Don't you dare say it,” he warned, hearing Pete's cackling all the way up to the third floor. 

The very moment Patrick entered the master bedroom it occurred to him he would be sharing the large but cozy bed with Pete.   
That of course, was perfectly fine. It was not at all the first time they'd shared sleeping space.   
And besides, they were 'husbands' after all. 

Patrick set to opening the wardrobe to distance himself from the thought of being in this room with Pete. Which was 'perfectly fine with him' and 'not awkward at all'.   
Really.   
The singer took a deep breath as he pushed all of his stuff to the left side of the closet which was the side he always used on tour.   
He pulled out his laptop and set it on the night stand on the right, knowing Pete would want the left side of the bed.   
Leaving his hat on the dresser, Patrick headed back down, wanting to wait until Pete was there to situate the room any further. 

~

“Pete?” Patrick called when he wasn't in the front room. 

Pete's head poked out from the library. “I'm in here.”

Patrick paused in the doorway, unsure of what he was getting into.

“C'mere, look at these.”

Patrick made his way over to the window seat where Pete was sitting next to a small stack of books.   
“This is so cool! I actually thought all these books in here were fake.” 

Patrick laughed, trying to read over Pete's shoulder. “It's not IKEA, Petey.” 

“I know that,” Pete chuckled, “but this is a LOT of old books!” 

Patrick stared at him , wide eyed. “Um, where would you get this many 'fake books'? That would be so much more difficult.”

Pete thought about that for a second before his attention was pulled back to the one in his hand.   
“Yeah, I guess you're right.” 

“I usually am,” Patrick teased. “Well, about this kind of thing.” 

“This is – it's a song book. It's by Edward Carpenter.” 

“Chants of Labor, A Song Book of the People With Music.”

Pete nodded having that excited gleam in his eye that Patrick knew so well.  
The same one he had when he was planning this party. 

“Read it,” Pete offered, handing it over, “it's like...the first pop punk.” 

Patrick took it, curious now. “Who is this guy?” 

“He's a British socialist poet. He was pretty famous for being an activist for gay rights and animal rights back in the day.” 

Patrick was amused, “Now we can actually say, 'back in my day'.” 

Pete's laughter echoed up into the tall ceiling. “Yeah, I'll make Bronx think I'm really from 1927.” 

Patrick grinned, flipping through the book some more. “How do you know all of this stuff about this guy?” 

Pete sighed, “Well, you do learn a good bit from planning a murder mystery party set back in time, but I'd heard of him before.” 

Patrick turned a raised brow to him. 

“Don't give me that look,” Pete grinned. 

“No, it's just...when I think I've known you long enough to not surprise me anymore, you come out with stuff like this.” 

“Thank you?” 

Patrick bumped shoulders with him. “I'm serious. It's a compliment.” 

“This library also has his book My Days and Dreams. You know, he and his partner were the inspiration for Maurice, the E.M. Forster novel?” 

“No, no I didn't, Pete.” 

Patrick smiled, watching him.   
He loved the passion Pete would get and how much energy it gave off, humming around him.   
He also knew how long Pete would sit there obsessing if he let him and they'd never get to dinner.

“You know what my favorite thing about books is?” 

“What's that?” Pete asked, eyes not coming off the page. 

“You can take them with you. C'mon let's go. You said we'd get tacos, I'm starving.” 

“Okay, okay, I'm coming.” 

“I'm just gonna run back up to get my hat.” Patrick said. 

“Oh hey, wait! Take these up for me?” Pete handed Patrick the pile of books. 

“You know we're only going to be here two nights...” 

Pete laughed, “Three if I don't finish those.” 

Patrick wanted to turn back and question if Pete would rent the house an extra day just for something like that but he already knew the answer. 

~

“What are you looking at?” 

Patrick didn't even glance up from his computer as Pete got in bed next to him. 

The light from the screen illuminated his face in the otherwise low lit room, making a weird reflection off his glasses. 

“Two things, actually. I'm researching piano playing in the nineteen twenties so I make sure I'm well versed and I'm also comparing our singles from the last few albums because I'm hoping Joe and Andy will agree that the one we've been working on should be the first single for the new album.” Patrick explained. 

Pete turned to watch his best friend gather the information. 

“And you need to know this about our songs tonight?” 

Patrick grinned, knowing Pete was low key making fun of him.   
“Yes, because if I don't do it now, I'll forget.” 

Pete shook his head at him as he turned his neck to stare at the wall, focusing on a small tear in the wallpaper.   
It was slowly sinking in that their friends would be arriving in a few hours.   
A long, sad sigh escaped him and for just a moment, he'd forgotten he wasn't alone. 

“Hey, where'd you go?” Patrick shut his laptop, turning it off before giving all his attention to his best friend. 

Pete turned over onto his stomach and let out a second sigh.   
“What if this doesn't work?” 

“Work?” 

“The party. What if someone doesn't show or what if they don't feel for each other the same way they used to?” 

Patrick smiled despite Pete's run of depressing questions.   
“And this, my friend, is one of the many, very good reasons not to 'ship' things.” 

Pete flopped back over, sitting up quickly. 

“This isn't 'shipping', Patrick!” he shouted. “This is real, these are our friends, who deserve happy endings!” 

Patrick pulled Pete into a hug, knowing that planning this party had finally gotten to him.   
“I know how important this is to you,” Patrick offered. “Honestly, I just want our friends to have a good time and think this is cool.” 

Pete smiled, “Me too.” 

“If you make sure everyone enjoys themselves and is having fun, which I know you will make sure of that, then I can't imagine that won't push some, if not all, of them together.” Patrick said. 

Pete scrunched up his nose. “Joe and Andy?” 

Patrick cracked up. “Okay, not all of them.” 

Pete looked down into his lap, his fingers pulling at a thread on the comforter.   
“I just...for some of them, it's been years. I want to make right all the wrong decisions. I wish I could just tell them that it's okay to be together. That they belong together.” 

Patrick chuckled, “What if people came up to you all the time and told you who you should spend your life with?” 

“They do,” Pete grinned, reaching over to place his hand over Patrick's. “It's you.”   
Patrick let out an awkward giggle, knowing that was true. 

He'd gotten used to people asking about them or flat out telling him he was 'missing out' for not being with his best friend.   
Looking down at their hands pressed together on top of the blanket, the younger man felt his face heat up as he remembered those hands in his, and on his back, last week in the ballroom.   
Pulling away, he avoided meeting Pete's eyes, feeling them on him.   
“You know, you really ought to get some sleep,” Patrick said, turning to grab his phone. “You need your rest; you have a long day of playing matchmaker tomorrow.” 

Pete laughed lightly, “Yeah.” 

There was a comfortable silence between them for a moment as Pete turned off the lamp.   
“I'm...sorry I shouted a few minutes ago,” he said. 

“It's all good, Petey,” Patrick smiled, “you know how many times we've shouted at each other in the studio?”

Pete's tiny laugh had a hint of sleepiness to it that made Patrick grin. 

“Goodnight, Pete.” 

“'Night 'Trick.” 

~

Morning came faster for Pete than it had in a while.   
Once he decided he couldn't lay there anymore worrying about the party, he got out of bed and pressed the on button of the Keurig that sat on the dresser.   
Patrick made a little whimper sound from the bed and Pete smiled as he turned over, away from the huge window where the sun was coming through.   
The blond tossed an arm over his eyes, and Pete glanced down at his phone. 

10:45

Way too early for Patrick.   
Padding over to the window seat to pull the curtains together, casting the room in a shadow so the other man could keep sleeping, he headed into the bathroom for a shower. 

Pete didn't even notice Patrick sitting up in the bed with a cup of coffee when he came out, leaving little drips on the rug. 

“I made your coffee, but it's in my cup because I took yours since it was ready.” 

Pete turned at the sound of Patrick's voice almost losing the towel slung loose around his waist.

Pete stared at him with a confused look on his face, “Sorry, I didn't expect you to be up yet.” 

“Yeah,” Patrick admitted, looking at anything but Pete's lower half.   
Or upper half, for that matter. 

“Me either. I couldn't sleep thinking about how everyone will be here in less than five hours.” 

Pete shook his head, “Don't remind me.” 

Patrick turned back to his phone as Pete reached into the dresser. “The bathroom is all yours once I get dressed.” 

Patrick raised the mug in his hand as a response. 

~

“I can't believe you just shoved all that stuff into the desk in the hall,” Patrick chuckled as they headed back up to their room. 

“I didn't know what else to do with it and they're going to get here soon.” 

“I know,” Patrick said, pushing the door shut behind them once they were there. I can't believe it's only an hour until arrival time.” 

Pete stripped off his t-shirt, tossing it in the corner on top of Patrick's clothes from yesterday before pulling out Leon's outfit from the wardrobe. Backing up from it, he let out a sound that was somewhat pained, leaning against the bed. 

After a moment he notice Patrick standing in the bathroom doorway, staring at him, while he zoned out with eyes trained on the suit. 

“What's wrong now?” Patrick asked, hoping to clear this up in the next thirty minutes. 

“Nothing. Just worrying about how well this is going to go.” 

“Great.” Patrick smiled to encourage him, missing Pete's frown as his eyes instead found the bat tattoo beneath his belly button. 

Busying himself with getting his own suit from the closet, the blond realized he knew what Pete was going through. 

“I think I finally know how you feel when we put out new material,” Pete said, reading Patrick's mind per usual. 

The singer turned back to him and laughed. “Yeah, you probably do,” he said, “but we can't stop this party coming any more than I can ever stop a record release.” 

Pete nodded, knowing Patrick was right. 

“I'm sorry I'm so anxious.” 

“It's okay,” Patrick offered, “but if I'm being honest, I'm excited to meet Leon, so...” 

“So he better be here when you come out of the bathroom?” 

“Yes, because as soon as I get dressed, I'll be Emmett and from what I understand from your notes, I can't be without Leon by my side.” 

Pete stared at the closed bathroom door, surprised by Patrick's pep talk. If that wasn't enough to get him into character and excited for the party then nothing would at this point. 

Pete grinned madly as he watched Patrick in his grey suit and maroon silk bowtie that matched his own full length tie, thankful that they could at least play this part on the outside.   
He was sitting on the bench at the foot of their bed and Pete swallowed dryly, glancing down at the two small, glistening objects in his hand. 

“Uh...Patrick?” 

The blond turned from the dresser and raised his brow before coming over to join Pete on the bench. 

“First, umm, I want to thank you for putting up with me planning this whole thing.” 

Both men laughed and Patrick met Pete's eyes, though the older man couldn't look back yet.

“I couldn't do it without you and I want you to know I wouldn't _want_ to do this without you.” 

Patrick shook his head. “You could have set this up without me, Pete, I promise,” he said, “but you wouldn't have a fake husband without me.” 

Pete laughed warmly at Patrick's teasing. “That's true because there's no one I'd rather have as my husband than you.” 

They both stared back, deep into each other, getting lost in the moment. 

“Fake husband!” Pete confirmed, making Patrick chuckle awkwardly.

“You realize our fans would be dying right now over this conversation.” 

Pete threw his head back as his laughter echoed through the room.   
“Yeah, that's true,” he said. “But, uh, speaking of 'husbands', it's two forty five. I guess you're mine, and...I need to do this right.” 

Patrick's heart skipped at that last sentence and he gazed at Pete as he held out his hand. Placing his own in his, the younger man couldn't hold back a grin as Pete slipped the thin gold band on his finger.   
Before Pete could put his own on, Patrick took it from him, grasping his left hand gently. He placed Pete's in what felt like it's rightful place.  
Patrick didn't let go right away and they both took in their rings brushing together, their hands resting so close to Pete's thigh.   
Blue eyes met brown again after a moment and Patrick felt his heart skittering just like it was minutes ago. 

“I...guess we're married now,” Patrick said, trying for a joking tone. 

Pete's eyes sparkled as he paired that with a huge grin.

“We always were, we were just missing the rings.” 

Patrick smiled back at him, neither moving to break their connection. 

The large clock in the hall had other ideas and rang out, dramatically announcing three o'clock. 

“We better get downstairs and double check everything. They could be here any minute,” Patrick suggested, removing his hand from Pete's leg as he took a deep breath. 

“Yeah, you're right,” Pete said, hopping up. “I'm actually finally excited.” 

Patrick shook his head in disbelief, “Now you're excited?” 

~

Patrick had a seat on the couch across from the window in the front room as he ran through his character's notes in his head. He felt as if Emmett was very much like him in most ways so this wasn't going to be too difficult.

That didn't mean he wasn't nervous. 

The double doors creaked as Pete came back in the room, leaving them both open now and he walked right over to Patrick, handing him a cup of hot tea.   
“Everything seems good in the kitchen,” Pete reported. “The servers are ready to work,” 

Patrick was still smiling over the drink and took a sip after blowing on the steam. “Thank you. How did you know I needed this?” 

Pete raised a brow at him.   
“You have to ask? I know you. When I left, your foot was bouncing up and down like it does when we're at a photo shoot.” 

“I can't help it. I know how to perform, I just don't know how to look good in a suit.” 

Pete scoffed, reaching over to finger the grey collar. “Trust me, you just do.” 

Patrick blushed, turning back to his tea which was helping calm him, if he didn't actively think about their friends showing up any moment. 

Glancing back at Pete again as the man drummed his fingers on the cushion beside him, Patrick noticed what little space there was between them.   
_'Do we always sit this close?'_ he wondered, his face feeling warm again and he just blamed it on the temperature of his drink. 

“What if no one shows up?” Pete said out of the silence that fell over them. 

“Pete, they're coming. That many people don't RSVP and then not show.” 

Pete let out a long, sad sigh. 

“And if you meant what if Ryan doesn't show...well, it's his loss.” 

“Yeah, you're right.” 

“I know,” Patrick grinned, turning back to Pete and noticing his suit for the first time. 

It was a traditional black pinstripe suit but on the collar was an embroidered pink flower. 

“That's cute,” Patrick said out loud and Pete's eyebrow raised.   
“Oh, the, uh, flower decoration on your collar.” 

Pete smiled. 

“It's adorable. It's an Aristotle Demille original, of course.” 

Patrick threw up his hands. “Of course, I should have known.”

Pete opened his mouth to say something else just as the large knocker rang through the foyer and his head whipped around, noticing Patrick's own nervous appearance. 

“Can't back out now.”


	4. Don't Threaten Me With a Good Time

Pete took a deep breath before he grasped the engraved metal knob, pulling open the heavy dark wood door to reveal the first guest.  
He was met with big brown eyes and an excited smile that filled the other man's face. 

“You are?” Pete asked with a smirk, grasping his wrist in a proper stance. 

The other man scoffed playfully.  
“I am Aristotle Demille, fashion designer to the stars!” he said. “You better fucking let me in!” 

Pete doubled over, unable to contain his laughter.  
“You know, I'm having a party...I don't know if you're on the list.” 

“C'mon, you gotta let me in, I have a cane and a party hat.” He pointed them both out to prove it.  
“Yeah, but I'm the king of _this_ hologram,” Pete replied, opening his arms for a hug before moving aside to finally allow him in. 

Patrick came around the corner just then to see Brendon Urie standing in the foyer admiring everything from the floors up to the tall ceilings.

“Aristotle, you remember my husband Emmett?” 

Brendon paused, turning back to the pair, not hiding his smirk. “Oh, I remember him alright,” he replied. “I just don't remember there being a wedding.” 

“Me either!” Patrick teased, sharing a chuckle with Pete as he shook Brendon's hand for show. 

“I will show you where your room is so you can leave your things and then come back down and join us in the front room,” said Pete, leaving Patrick to stand there and hope no one else would show up while he was upstairs.

~

“You okay? Anybody else come yet?” Pete asked as he strode back into the front room. 

“Yeah, all those invisible guests you invited, in the corner.”

Pete laughed, tugging on his suit to readjust it. “I'm nervous Brendon's going to ask where his husband is,” Pete said, messing with his tie that looked perfectly fine before. 

“You need to worry about him asking 'Who' his husband is!” Patrick said, low but aggressive as he forced Pete in front of him and fixed his neck accessory back where it belonged. 

“At least I know who mine is,” Pete grinned cheekily, sliding his arms around Patrick's waist just as Brendon re-entered the room. 

“I can come back,” Brendon wiggled his eyebrows, “if you two need more alone time.” 

Patrick pushed at Pete's chest to back off some.  
“No, not when our guests are here,” Patrick glared at Pete who just smirked. “Besides, all we've had the past week is alone time, trust me.” 

Brendon chuckled as he came over to sit on the couch next to them.  
His leg bounced back and forth as he sat back, leaning his fancy cane prop against a side table. 

“So, how've you been? I had no idea this was your party!” he remarked. 

“That was kinda the point,” Pete chuckled. 

“Okay...who all's coming? Is there going to be a murder tonight? Can I have a beer yet? Can I keep this fucking hat?! Because I love it!” 

Pete was amused at his friend's rapid fire questions.  
“One, you ask too many things for a mystery party. Two, yes to the beer, and maybe to the hat.” 

Brendon was about to say something else when another knock announced another guest. 

Brendon gasped, clapping. “More people!” he sang out so loudly, Patrick almost covered his ears. 

“I will....answer the door,” Pete said, standing. 

“And I'll check on....the refreshments,” Patrick offered, not wanting to be left alone with Brendon's questions right now. 

Brendon smiled, his face falling as soon as they left the room, wondering if this guest was his 'fiance'. He heard voices in the foyer and at least one was familiar. 

~

“Wow!” said the very next guest to step into the impressive main area. 

Pete chuckled, happy so far to be getting a good response.  
“How are you guys?” Pete asked, closing the door behind them.

“We're great,” Josh Dun grinned, sliding his arm around his companion's waist. 

Tyler Joseph stuck out his hand to Pete, unsure of what he should do in a scenario like this. 

“Thank you for inviting us here to your lovely home,” he said as Josh snickered beside him. 

“You're very welcome,” Pete smiled. “If you guys would take your stuff upstairs and then join us in the front room, that would be great.”  
Josh nodded, picking up a smaller bag that fell out of Tyler's suitcase and onto the floor. 

“Are we the first to get here?” he asked. 

“Second,” Pete replied. 

The pair shared an excited look before taking off upstairs, right past Patrick. 

“Second floor, fifth door, guys!” Pete shouted up to them hoping they heard. 

“Was that Twenty One Pilots?” Patrick asked coming over toward Pete. 

“Yes...what's wrong?" Pete asked, noticing The blond's concerned expression, "Was there a problem in the kitchen?” 

“Kind of,” Patrick said. “The chefs are having trouble getting along...one of them claimed it's because of the small space.” 

Pete's eyes shifted, “That's a huge kitchen! Which is surprising for the time period the house was built.”

Patrick nodded in agreement. “Our vegan-vegetarian chef is very nice, I hadn't met him yet. Our other chef is not accommodating in the least. She was so rude to Daniel, the vegan chef. I don't think she knew I was there because when I asked them where they'd moved the beer, she pretended to look but didn't have a clue. Daniel finally found it for me.” 

“Is my husband in there flirting with the cook?” Pete teased.

“No!” Patrick blushed, “Pete, I'm being serious.”

”I don't know what to do about that. Dinner is only in a couple of hours.” 

”There wasn't anyone else available from the company?” Patrick wondered. 

Pete sighed, pressing on the bridge of his nose. “Take Brendon his beer and then meet me back in the dining room.” 

~

Brendon leapt from his seat as soon as Josh and Tyler walked through the double doors.

His eyes lit up, squealing as a blur of bright pink hair jumped into his arms. 

“Hey guys!” he beamed, hugging Tyler, too, once he got over to them. “I can't believe you're here! I mean, I can! I'm just excited!” 

Josh laughed , leaning his forehead on Tyler's shoulder. 

Brendon decided to introduce himself first. “I'm Aristotle Demille, world renowned fashion designer!” 

The other two men shared a look. 

“Yep, he's the killer,” said Josh. 

“No doubt in my mind,” said Tyler. 

“I am not!” shouted Brendon with a pout. “Besides, we don't even know who's gonna be here.”

“Fine,” Tyler agreed, “but we're watching you, Demille.” 

Brendon cracked up at Tyler's threat, mostly because it was Tyler.  
“So, anyway, who are you? You two might be a killer tag team.” 

“Well, we are a _killer tag team_ , but we're not the 'murderer' if that's what you're asking.” 

“I'm Ellery Meyer,” Josh said, sticking out his hand and Brendon couldn't contain his giggle.

“And my name is Blurryface and I care what you think,” said Tyler, as Brendon lost it, holding his sides from laughing too hard.

“I'm kidding. My name is Merton Poole and we own a restaurant called The Kitchen Sink.” 

Brendon smirked knowingly. “Cute.” 

“We thought so, too.” 

Josh had a seat, pulling Tyler into his lap for a minute. 

“So are you two...” 

“Long time boyfriends,” Josh said, using air quotes. “We've known each other since birth.” 

“Supposedly,” Tyler added. 

Brendon nodded, “So if it isn't you...” 

Josh and Tyler exchanged looks. 

“Me – you?” Tyler asked. 

“Or me – you?” Josh repeated. 

Brendon shook his head. “It's nothing, don't worry about it.” 

“Then you don't me know me as well as I thought you did,” said Tyler. 

“You know he's gonna worry all night now if you don't tell us.” 

Brendon sighed.  
“Okay, fine. I have an assigned fiance, but I don't know who he is.” 

Both men nodded. 

“Okay,” said Josh, grinning. 

“Cover his ears,” Brendon pointed at Tyler. “I thought it maybe, could've been you.” 

Josh nodded again, understanding, but Tyler pulled his hands away frowning. 

“I heard that,” he narrowed his eyes, wrapping his arms around Josh and slid off his lap to sit between them. “Get. Your. Own. Fren.” 

“Shouldn't you ask Pete who it is so you can interact properly with him when he gets here?” 

“Yeah, I probably will,” Brendon said as he took another sip of his beer. “I mean, I think I know who it is...I just wanna be sure.” 

~

“I will pay triple for anyone who can come on short notice,” Pete said, sitting at the long table. 

Patrick stayed close, listening in on the conversation on the other end. 

“We love your company and we don't want to have to call someone else. It's just...this one particular chef.” 

Patrick was getting more and more nervous as the call went on. 

Of all the things that could have gone wrong, he never thought a rude chef would be one. 

A loud clanging sound from the kitchen turned both their attention to the door before sharing a glance. 

“I'm on hold,” Pete whispered, “can you go check on that?” 

Patrick gave Pete a grimace before disappearing behind the swinging door. 

Pete leaned his head on his hand rubbing his temples as Patrick came back out into the dining room.  
“Daniel just threatened to quit!” Patrick announced, breathing off balance. “He was already all the way out to his car when I went in there and Samantha, the awful chef, didn't have a clue. I told him we were trying to fix the situation and convinced him to stay.”

“Good,” said Pete, “honestly we need him more than her. I'm still on hold.” 

“The worst part is, I think Joe's here.” Patrick added.

Pete's brow furrowed.

“I know that's good,” Patrick said reading Pete's thoughts, “it just means I have to greet him without you.” 

“Go let him in, I'll be there as soon as I can.” 

~

“You just had to get here the same time as me.” 

Andy cracked up as Joe was teasing him from the side of his car, getting his stuff out. 

“You stalkin' me, Andy Hurley?” 

Andy took one hand out of his pocket and stuck it out, eyes roaming over Joe in his suit, “The name's Sawyer Hannes.” 

Andy smirked as Joe shook his hand.  
“Sawyer, huh? I'm Delaney.” 

“Yep, well, according to my little card it is.” 

Joe rolled his eyes gently.  
“Yeah, I brought mine with me in case I forgot anything about myself.” 

“So did I,” Andy chuckled, clearly embarrassed. “Did you get everything?” he asked, as he followed Joe up to the porch. 

“I think so, “ Joe said. “Probably not, you know how bad my memory is.” 

Andy smiled, “So what is your profession?” 

“Lawyer.” 

“Professor,” Andy chuckled. 

“Nice, wait don't tell me...history?” 

“You got it,” Andy said, pausing at the door, next to Joe who was staring right at him. 

“Should we knock or...” 

Joe shook his head.  
“Sorry man, I'm not used to seeing you in a suit. Zoned out for a sec there! You look good,” 

Andy felt his cheeks warm as Joe turned to the door and knocked. 

“I wonder - I bet a creepy butler is gonna answer,” Joe said. “A creepy butler always answers in these situations.” 

The door slowly opened, creaking as more light poured into the foyer revealing a familiar face. 

“Hello!” Patrick grinned meekly from behind the door, inviting them both in. 

Andy stared up into the impressive ceiling and sprawling hallway, almost tripping over Joe in the process. 

“Hi, why are you answering the door?” Joe asked.

Patrick gave him an odd look as Andy watched the exchange. 

“Because this is my house, of course. It's so nice to see you both again.” 

Joe and Andy traded looks just as Pete came out from the double doors behind them. 

“Emmett, I - “ Pete grinned, glad he'd remembered to use character names since more guests had arrived. “Oh, hey there.” 

“Leon, these are my friends, Delaney and Sawyer. Guys, this is my husband, Leon Lamont.” 

Pete came over and pulled Patrick against him with his left arm around the blond's waist while he shook hands with his right.  
Joe stared at the pair for a second while Andy let out a giggle. 

“Nice to meet you....I guess,” said Joe exchanging an awkward glance with Andy. “And I met this fine man on the porch. I think I'll get along with him, so it's all good.” 

Andy gave a nod of agreement although his eyes were still fixated on Pete's hand on Patrick. 

“That's great,” Patrick said with a grin. “Go ahead and take your bags up, your rooms are the last two on the second floor. Names are on the doors.” 

“Great, thanks,” said Joe. “What do you want us to do after that?” 

“Come back down and party?” Pete suggested with awkward laughter.

The two men agreed before heading up, leaving the two hosts alone. 

“We need to go check on Brendon and them-” Patrick worried, getting stopped by Pete grabbing his arm. 

“Wait, first, you'll never believe what happened with the caterers.”

“Oh! The caterers, I totally forgot. What happened?” 

“So apparently, Samantha in there is a trainee and she found out that it was us, That it's a Fall Out Boy party and stole this gig from the real chef that was supposed to be here.” 

Patrick's jaw dropped. 

“I know,” Pete smirked. “I spoke with the guy on the phone and he said he would be here as soon as he possibly could and would relieve his student from her duties.” 

Patrick sighed, “That's mean. We could cause her to lose her job.” 

“That's too bad, 'Trick. I'm paying them too much money to let her ruin this dinner. And if she couldn't work with our vegan chef, well that's all the more reason to expose her.” 

Patrick nodded. “I do agree with that. He's such a nice guy, I don't know who couldn't get along with him.” 

Pete nodded, too. “I wish we could set him and Andy up. I bet they'd hit it off!” 

~

“Why do you always have to bring up that time you beat me on Mario Kart?!” Brendon shouted, his voice bouncing off the high ceilings, “ALWAYS!”

Tyler cowered behind Josh's shoulder, even as he laughed at them both.

“You have to admit, it was...unexpected,” Josh offered, sitting back against the couch, still blocking Tyler from Brendon's wrath. 

Brendon turned a glare onto his friend, breathing in and out dramatically before retracting. “Yeah...,” he admitted, “it was.” 

“So I tried to send you a link to that show I found on Netflix the other day,” Josh said, wanting to change the subject even though things had seemed to have cooled down. “I don't think it worked though, but you have to check it out.” 

Pete cleared his throat loudly, coming over to them.  
“I'm a well traveled man, boys, and I have never heard of this 'Netflix' you speak of, here in the year nineteen twenty seven,” he reminded the small group. “Do I need to refresh your memory on the rules of a Murder Mystery Party?” 

Brendon just laughed at him while Josh and Tyler looked like two kids caught with their hand in the cookie jar. 

“No sir,” Tyler finally replied before Pete was satisfied.

“I knew you three would be the trouble makers.” 

“Did he tell us his character name?” Josh whispered as Pete walked off to join Patrick. 

“Leon, “ Brendon replied. “Leon Lamont. It was on my character card.” 

“If it was on your character card, then isn't that your name?” Tyler asked. 

“No!” Brendon giggled, “My name is Aristotle Demille. Do NOT call me anything else!” 

“Yes, your majesty,” Tyler stammered. as Josh was laughing so hard at them both he could barely see. 

“Except that!” Brendon pointed, grabbing his cane prop, “You may call me that!”

“Okay...That,” Tyler repeated as all three dissolved into laughter. 

~

Andy grinned as he looked over from the dresser to see Joe standing in the doorway to his room.  
His arms were crossed and his snazzy suit wasn't the only thing he was wearing, as a scowl formed on his face.  
The drummer finished up organizing his stuff on the dresser before walking over to the taller man and pulling him into his arms.  
Joe's torso stiffened before returning the hug and Andy was still grinning when he pulled back. 

“What was that for?” Joe asked. 

“You looked like you needed one,” Andy shrugged, “and I realized I didn't hug you in the driveway.” 

That actually earned a small smile from Joe before he crossed his arms again and let out a sigh. 

“You know, I was planning on getting here sooner but I had to shower after the gym and figure out if I should bring any modern day clothes with me,” Andy said, setting his phone on the nightstand. 

“You just wanted an excuse to remind me how you live at the gym and get all buff,” Joe teased, walking over to his friend and and grasping each arm through his white shirt sleeves. “You don't have to go around reminding us, Hurley. We can tell.”

Andy chuckled as his cheeks reddened, almost matching his beard.  
“That's Professor Hannes to you,” Andy goaded. 

Joe raised his brow, “Is that so?” 

Andy nodded. 

“Can we not?” 

Andy chuckled awkwardly as confusion set in. 

“You don't like your character?” 

“It's not that,” Joe replied. “I can't flippin' believe Pete and Patrick!” 

Andy closed his door and guided Joe over to the bench in the hall across from their rooms. 

“This feels like two thousand seven and Folie all over again!” Joe growled. “I can't– they just plan stuff without us, never any regard to us or how we feel.” 

Andy watched Joe blow off steam before attempting to talk him off the ledge. 

“Well, I don't know about you, but I think it's nice to just show up to a party and not have to think about anything. If they told us beforehand, we probably would've been roped into...some weird detail or another.” 

Joe nodded, pointing at him. “That's true.” he said, “I didn't think about that. I would not have wanted to deal with that with the week I've had.”

“What's goin' on?” Andy prodded. 

“A pipe burst in my guest bath, but you know how it's above my room?” Joe gestured. 

Andy grimaced. 

“Yeah, so you can imagine what a pain that's been to deal with. I've been sleeping on the couch for the last three nights,” Joe stated. 

“Why didn't you call me? You could've stayed in my spare.” 

Joe rolled his eyes.  
“Didn't want to be a burden on anybody.” 

Andy looked away, tapping his fingers slowly on his legs. “So I'm just 'anybody' now? Thanks, Joe.” 

“I believe it's pronounced 'Thanks, Pete'.” Joe kidded, making Andy laugh. “No, I should be able to deal with my flooded house on my own. I'm a grown-ass Rock Star.” 

“But sometimes even grown-ass Rock Stars need help,” Andy offered. “Besides, I would've loved having you there.” 

Joe stood up then and Andy followed, thinking he was ready to go downstairs. Instead, the curly haired man wrapped him in a hug.  
“What was that for?” Andy smiled. 

“I already don't know what I would do if you weren't at this party.” 

Joe headed off down the stairs toward the landing, missing the little smile on Andy's face. 

~

“They look happy to be here,” Patrick pointed at the three guys across the room. 

Pete shrugged, “Brendon's always happy to be anywhere they are.” 

“That's true,” Patrick agreed. 

“I did catch them being too modern,” Pete added. 

“If anybody is going to break those rules, it'd be them,” Patrick reminded him. “I think we scarred Joe and Andy.” 

“Nah,” said Pete, “we could do a lot worse than pretend to be husbands to do that. In fact, we have done a lot worse.” 

Patrick laughed at the moments he was thinking of, wondering if Pete was thinking the same.  
He probably was. 

“Are they still upstairs?” Pete asked. 

“I think so.” 

“I hope they didn't get lost..” 

“Nope, there they are.” 

The hosts glanced over to see their friends entering the room.  
“Emmett, why don't you do the honors of introducing them?” Leon suggested as 'Aristotle' made his way over. 

“Aristotle,” Patrick said, “these are my friends, Delaney Sinclair and Sawyer Hannes.” 

Josh and Tyler joined the group to introduce themselves, as well. 

“Are you two...married?” Brendon asked with a smirk. 

“No!” Joe said as Andy stepped an inch away from him. “We just met.” 

“Ah, okay,” Brendon said, “I'm engaged, but...he hasn't shown yet.”

Brendon turned a glare on Pete, which the older man conveniently avoided. 

“That's interesting,” Joe said just for small talk. “What's his name?” 

“Sebastian,” Brendon replied, proudly. “It sounds so sexy, doesn't it?” 

Joe raised his eyebrow. “If you say so, man.” 

“How was your trip over here?” Patrick asked Andy as they stepped away from the others. “I saw there was a lot of traffic in your area when I got up.” 

“Yeah, I saw that too, on Waze, so I actually went to the gym before heading over.” 

Patrick nodded as Pete came back with Andy's water. 

“Thank you." The drummer said, "I feel weird having you guys wait on me.” 

Pete and Patrick both laughed. “Don't worry about it. We'll put the servers out at some point but we really didn't think it was necessary yet.” 

Andy's eyebrows went up at the word 'server'. “Oh, fancy,” he teased. 

Pete shook his head, smiled at him before excusing himself again to check in on the kitchen. 

“Hey, wait up.” 

Pete turned to around to see Brendon catching up to him. 

“I know you're probably not going to tell me because this is a mystery party but, C'mon! Tell me who my person is?”

Pete sighed, wanting to say, _you know who your person is._

“Brendon, you're right." Pete patted him on the shoulder, "This is a mystery party. Leave it a mystery.” 

Brendon stomped a foot, letting out another sigh.  
“You can tell me if it's Spencer,” he said. “It's Spencer, isn't it?” 

Pete stared at him as Brendon's grin grew, thinking he'd hit the nail on the head. 

He was about to tell him he could _'think what he wanted to think'_ , when another loud knock came from the door announcing the arrival of yet another guest.


	5. Street Walking Cheetah with a Capital 'G'

Pete opened the door to greet the next guest as Brendon scurried back into the front room the second he caught a glimpse of the person.   
The quiet man in a moss colored suit was invited into the foyer as the host grinned at him. 

“How are you, Mr. Lamont?” 

Pete beamed, unable to believe that this was really Gerard Way standing in the hallway, playing his part better than he was his own. 

“Good, great!” Pete chuckled, “How about yourself?”

Gerard gave a nod, “I am well. Very happy to be here.” 

Pete's eyes caught Patrick coming out from the front room.   
“You remember my husband, Emmett?” 

Another nod as they shook hands. 

“May I take your bags, or show you to your room, Mr. Greenwood?” Patrick offered. “We're so glad you could make it.”   
The other man smiled humbly. 

“It was such an honor to be invited,” he said. “And yes, I would very much like to see my room, please.” 

Patrick guided him toward the stairs, helping him with his luggage.  
“So, how's that book coming along?” 

~

“Dude,” Brendon said, rushing over and dropping back down on the couch, “Gerard Way is here!” 

Tyler immediately looked at Josh beside him who covered his mouth before letting out a particularly giddy sound. 

“What? Why?” Josh panicked. “What would he be doing here? He's so much cooler than us!” 

Brendon's jaw dropped. “Fuck you! Speak for yourselves!” 

Josh cracked up, realizing how that sounded.   
“Sorry, Bren. You're still my fren,” he said, patting his shoulder. 

Tyler cleared his throat loudly. “Wow!” he added in a snarky tone.

Josh leaned over, whispering something in Tyler's ear that was out of everyone's range. 

Tyler grinned and leaned back into his arms, clearly having forgiven him. 

Brendon chuckled, grinning at their banter and a wave of nostalgia he couldn't quite place passed over him.   
He finished off the rest of his beer as the two were going back and forth, causing a loneliness he'd long buried to resurface.   
It was becoming more and more obvious to him his single lifestyle wasn't as thrilling as it was at one point.   
It made him wish Spencer was there at least.   
He'd put his arm around him for show and he could pretend the attention was from someone who wanted him.   
Brendon let out a sigh, wishing for more, but knowing he was going to have to settle. 

~

“What are you doing?” Andy chuckled as he watched Joe's finger bouncing in the air and his lips moving. 

“Counting,” the taller of the two explained. “I was trying to see how many people were here, and who all could be coming.” 

“Someone else just got here, too, “ Andy informed him as Joe joined him on the small seat. 

“Did you see who it was?” Joe asked, leaning closer to Andy to see into the hall. 

“No, they went upstairs already.” 

Joe sighed, making Andy chuckle. 

“Relax,” Andy suggested, dropping his hand to touch his.  
Andy gave his fingers a gentle squeeze before clasping his own hands to keep them out of the way. 

“I can't,” Joe said, looking back at him suddenly. 

_Had Joe's eyes really always been this deep blue-_

“Did you hear me?” 

Andy grinned awkwardly. 

“No, you didn't.” 

Andy shook his head, lowering it in shame, making Joe laugh. 

“Let me guess, you were either thinking about some weird vegan thing or the gym.” 

Andy blushed. “Something like that.” 

~

“Everything is going okay in the kitchen. I reassured Daniel that he would not have to work with Samantha much longer and that her replacement should be here soon,” Patrick said low, as he stood in the doorway to the front room.

“The head chef sent me his route. I probably should go wait for him once Gerard comes back down,” Pete said. 

Patrick nodded, agreeing.   
“Or I don't mind, if you want to stay here with everybody. This is your party...” 

“I thought it was 'our' party?” 

“It is!” Patrick touched his arm gently. “I just don't want to see you sulking on Sunday because you spent too much time with drama and not enough with our friends.” 

Pete smiled at him, making that little skip in his heart again. 

“And that's what husbands are for anyway,” Patrick stated.

Pete took Patrick into his arms for a moment unaware and uncaring of the audience they had.  
“You know I couldn't have done any of this without you.” 

“You may have said that before,” Patrick grinned as Pete was pulling back, “but keep saying it. It's nice to hear.” 

Pete let out a warm chuckle as they both turned toward the stairs at the sound of it creaking. 

“Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt,” Gerard said, stepping off the last step. 

Patrick shook his head. 

“We figured it was either you or a ghost,” Pete said as the other two men laughed. 

“I am totally good with that,” Gerard admitted. 

“And don't worry, you weren't interrupting anything. We were just worrying over party details,” Patrick assured. 

“There's no need,” Gerard said as they guided him toward the front room. “This amazing house is doing most of the work for you guys, I promise.” 

Patrick glanced over at Pete, who had a look of relief come over him.

“We really appreciate you saying that,” Patrick said. 

Gerard smiled, looking around again. “It's true.” 

The slowly growing group was buzzing as Pete and Patrick returned with the new guest.  
“Everyone,” Pete announced, getting the room's attention instantly, “I am very excited to introduce you all to a very good friend of ours, Mr. Othello Greenwood.”   
They all applauded the man as he gave a shy smile and wave.

“I'm not that important,” Gerard whispered to Patrick as they walked away from the attention and over toward some chairs in the corner. “I didn't think Othello was that famous, either.” 

“They love you,” Patrick offered. “We all do.” 

Gerard wasn't sure how exactly to fit himself back in with them all, having been focused on his comics and other endeavors so much until recently.

“Can I get you anything?” Patrick inquired. 

“Water would be great.” 

~

“Hey, how's it been going with the move?” Brendon asked after the chatter from the new arrival lessened, still not ready to be in character yet. 

Josh beamed at Tyler as he reached a hand over to rest on his leg. 

“Great! We are still keeping the house in Ohio, though. It felt wrong to sell it right now. I'm gonna sell the apartment because we both like Tyler's house- “ 

“Our house!” Tyler added. 

“Our house, better,” Josh grinned. 

“That's great, you guys,” Brendon smiled. 

“Don't forget we gotta get Jason out of the basement first,” Tyler teased, making Josh laugh before it occurred to Brendon. 

“Yes,” Josh said, “you're correct on that.” 

Tyler smiled brightly before he started rapping the lyrics under his breath so only Josh could hear. 

Brendon just started laughing as Joe walked up to chat. 

“What's so funny, guys?” he asked. 

Josh shook his head as Tyler still violently lip synced beside him. “You'd have to have been there.” 

~

“Othello Greenwood,” Andy grinned, walking over and sitting down in the chair across from his. “How are you?” 

The older man gave a small smile, shaking the bearded man's hand. 

“I'm Professor Sawyer Hannes.” 

“I'm doing well,” Gerard replied, “Nice to see you again. I believe I came to speak at your university a few times.” 

Andy nodded before letting an awkward chuckle escape.

“I'm sorry,” he began. “I not sure I know how to deal with the roles we have to play.” 

“I get it." Gerard smiled, "Let's keep practicing. Do you know anything about UCLA in 1927?” 

“Oh...yeah,” Andy remembered, squaring off his shoulders as he crossed his arms. “Have you seen all the work they've finished on the bridge?” 

Gerard nodded, “Yes, yes I did. It looks great! Impressive work!” 

“Are you working on another book?” 

“Yes, I have a couple in the works,” Gerard replied. “See, this isn't so bad.” 

Andy let out another awkward laugh. “If you say so.” 

“I don't know, I think it's pretty cool. It'll make more sense I think once everyone's here. 

Andy agreed, “Yeah, I can see that.” 

~

“I let in Mateo and he sent Samantha home. I explained everything to him and he is thrilled to be here.” Pete reported with a grin as he reentered the front room and sat down next to Patrick. “Did anyone else come yet?” 

Patrick looked at him over his newspaper with a smirk. “No, Ryan isn't here yet.” 

Pete shook his head, looking down at a thread. “That wasn't what I asked.”   
He started to pull on it, but before he could, Patrick took his hand in his. 

“No, but that's what you were thinking,” he said. “And please don't take your frustration out on that nice throw pillow.” 

Pete let out a sigh as he began to play with Patrick's hand instead. 

“It's not really ours, remember?” Patrick whispered, getting a smile out of Pete. 

Patrick's fingers tingled as his best friend began to draw little shapes on his palm. 

It was better than him unraveling the vintage pillows and owing for property damage.

Patrick glanced around at the guests and the small groups that were forming, trying to ignore the feeling of Pete's hand in his.   
He lost whatever thought was trying to form the second Pete ran a fingertip over the gold band on his left hand.   
Patrick's blue eyes dropped into his lap instantly but Pete didn't stop. He seemed deep in thought and for once Patrick couldn't tell what he was thinking.   
“I just remembered something I need to do,” Pete said, letting go of Patrick's hand suddenly.

“What's that?” 

“I left the paperwork upstairs that I needed to have the chef sign. Not Mateo, Daniel. There was one that got left off when I hired him so I will be right back.” 

Patrick stood up with him, “Hey, would you grab my watch? I forgot it on the dresser.” 

“Of course.” 

Pete turned back to him before he sat back down, taking his face in his hands and pressed his lips firmly against his.  
Patrick's whole entire being paused, unsure of what to do with himself but it was over before he could decide.   
Pete was grinning when he pulled back. 

“Be back in just a sec,” he said with a wink, “in case you want any more of that.” 

Patrick stared after Pete as he sauntered out of the room, bringing a hand up to touch his lips, the taste of Pete's lip balm still lingering.   
It hadn't even sunk in yet how many of their friends had witnessed that public display of affection. 

“O...kay,” Patrick said out loud to no one but himself. 

~

The second Joe approached Andy, the tattooed man's eyes widened, giving him a good idea that they'd both witnessed the same thing.   
Their best friends locking lips.   
Andy couldn't help but let out a little chuckle at the thought as Joe introduced himself. 

“Delaney Sinclair, attorney.” 

Gerard smiled up at him. “Othello Greenwood.” 

“Greenwood?” Joe asked, leaning on the back of Andy's chair. 

Gerard nodded. 

“That name sounds so familiar.” 

Gerard stretched his legs out, crossing them at the ankles.   
“There's a good chance you know my brother.” 

“What's his first name?” Joe inquired. 

“Jasper.” 

The younger man thought about it.

“Maybe,” he said, “I don't know.” 

Andy stifled a laugh at Joe's lazy attempt at staying in character.   
He leaned back in the chair and looked up at Joe as he shrugged, amusing him all the more.

Gerard's eyes darted between them. “So, are you two..”

“No, we are not,” Joe answered as Andy quickly hid another grin, “we just met!” 

“Sorry,” Gerard smirked, holding up his hands in surrender.

“It's fine...” Andy replied, meeting Joe's _no it's not_ face. 

“Why do people keep thinking we even know each other?” Joe kidded. 

“Maybe it's because you've been in a band together for nineteen years,” Gerard leaned over to whisper. 

The two shared a look before they both shrugged. 

“You know, he's right,” Andy said. 

Joe rolled his eyes gently. “Yeah, yeah.” 

~

“Emmett?” 

Patrick was so surprised to hear his 1920's name, it almost didn't register.  
He turned around in the hallway to see Brendon heading over to him. 

“Yes? What can I do for you?” 

“Tell me where my fiance is.” 

The shorter man laughed so awkwardly, he was hoping he'd laugh with him at least. 

“Why should I know where your fiance is, Aristotle?” he replied. “That would sure raise suspicion, would it not?” 

Brendon stared for a moment and Patrick couldn't tell what exactly was going through his head. 

“Uh, for example, do you know where Leon is?” Patrick continued.

Brendon thought about it. “...No.” 

“Good,” the blond replied, “One man should not know where another man's husband is. It simply just isn't right.” 

Brendon stared back at him before letting out a cackle. 

“No, but seriously,” Brendon said, dropping the smile. “Where's -” 

Patrick's head swiveled at the knock on the door, unsure if he wanted this to be the very man they were discussing.   
If it was him at least it would shut Brendon up.

“Excuse me,” Patrick offered as Brendon walked off.

 _'Please don't be someone Pete wanted to let in',_ Patrick thought to himself, placing his hand on the knob, throwing open the door. 

A bright face with curly hair stood on the porch, smiling back at him. 

“Thank you!” Patrick exclaimed. 

“For?” 

“Being you,” Patrick chuckled, not realizing he had said that out loud. 

He stepped aside as Ray Toro entered the house. 

“That's so nice of you to say,” Ray said, setting his things on the floor. “What a wonderful home you have.” 

Patrick smiled, “Thank you, Mr. Norvill. We are so happy to have you over for the weekend.”

“Please, call me Grover. We're all friends here.” 

Patrick gave a small nod, “My husband will be down in a few, he had some business to take care of.” 

Ray gave a nod himself as it slowly occurred to the blond just how easily he could throw around the term 'husband'. 

“I almost forgot,” Ray said, bending down to grab the bouquet that sat on the top of his bag. “These are for you and Leon. A little something for inviting me to your party.” 

Patrick smiled humbly, taking the flowers as Pete was coming down the stairs. 

“I leave for five minutes and someone else is giving my husband flowers?” he teased, coming over to place his arm possessively around Patrick's waist. 

“They're for both of you,” Ray said, giving Pete a nervous look. “You know how much I respect you, Mr. Lamont. I would never try to steal your love from you.” 

Patrick watched as Pete kept a glare on the other man for a moment longer before extending a handshake.   
“It's all good, Grover,” Pete grinned. “You are well aware of how trusted you are in my...community.” 

Ray relaxed, letting a smile come back to his face. 

“Thank you, Mr. Lamont. That's always nice to hear.” 

Pete gave a nod as Patrick announced he was going to put the flowers in some water. 

“Go ahead and take your bags up. Your room is the second one on the left hallway. Names are on the doors.” 

Ray thanked him, heading up just as there was another knock at the door behind Pete.

A huge smile spread onto Pete's face as he looked at the man standing on the porch. 

“Sorry I'm late,” the tall blond shrugged, “I had a delivery to make.” 

Pete shook his head, biting his lip from grinning too much as he took in the man in front of him, making a step into the foyer. 

Mikey Way dropped his bags on the floor and let himself be wrapped up in Pete's tight embrace. 

“It's so great to see you,” Pete whispered before letting up on his hold. 

“I'm glad I could make it,” Mikey said, “it's been a while.” 

Pete nodded, taking his hands in his, “Too long.” 

“So, I'm not sure I know how all this works,” Mikey spoke quietly. “I don't wanna mess anything up for you.” 

“You'll do great, I promise. Just answer to Jasper and pretend like you do deliveries for a living.”

“In nineteen twenty seven?” 

“Yeah,” Pete laughed. 

“Cool,” Mikey nodded. “I just have one more question.” 

Pete raised his eyebrows, waiting. 

“Is Jasper Greenwood a Sweet Little Dude, too?” Mikey smirked.

“The sweetest,” Pete beamed as Mikey leaned in for another hug. 

“You want any help with your stuff?” Pete offered. 

“Nah, man. I think I got it.” 

“Alright, uh, last door on the left hall.”

“Cool, Thanks.” 

Pete shook his head, a smile glued to his face as he turned around to see Patrick standing there with a frown. 

The older man could tell as soon as his expression changed that his smile was just put on. 

“Was, uh, was that Mikey?” Patrick asked, not meeting his eyes. 

“How long were you standing there?” 

“Long enough.” 

Patrick wasn't sure anymore if they were playing their roles or actually saying these things to each other. 

It was a strange feeling, all these lines blurring together already. 

“How is he?” Patrick shrugged, 

“He's good. Why didn't you come back out so I could introduce you?” 

Patrick's brow creased.   
“Because I wanted you two to talk. I figured you wouldn't want your fake husband getting in the way...no pun intended.” 

Pete couldn't help but chuckle at that. 

“Patrick, what are you even talking about?” 

The blond finally looked him in the eye as Pete came over to him and cupped his face in his hands. 

For a moment, Patrick thought Pete was going to kiss him again but he spoke from the heart instead.   
“You're my best friend. If you haven't figured it out by now, I think the world of you. I want to tell everyone you're my fake husband because I'm proud to be fake married to you.” 

Patrick blushed so intensely, his cheeks matched their ties. 

“I had the ability to make anyone my husband for this and I never once questioned who would play that part.” 

~

“I like this,” Josh said as Tyler played with the hand that was clasped around his shoulder. 

Tyler grinned up at him.

“This, what? The party – this? Our roles – this? Our friends – this? My bow tie you keep messing with – this?” 

Josh chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “You – this. Like this,” he explained. “Us just being us in front of our friends.” 

Tyler nodded, squirming around into a more cuddling position.

“Me too.” 

“Really?” Josh's eyes lit up. 

“Yeah,” Tyler replied, “I think my anxiety about what everyone will say is worse than what they would actually say.” 

“I could have told you that,” Josh whispered gently. 

“I'm serious, Josh.” 

“I am too,” Josh grinned. 

“No, think about it. We're at this party, right?” Tyler said.

“We are at a party, yes.” 

“We're fake together and everyone's okay with it, right?” 

Josh kept nodding. “I'm following.” 

“So, if we're really together, why wouldn't they be okay with that, too?” 

“Can't argue with that logic,” Josh grinned as Tyler kissed him on the lips. 

“Here's our first test,” Josh whispered as Andy Hurley came over and sat down with them. 

Tyler shifted a bit, making Josh wonder if he was changing his mind already. 

“Don't stop on my account,” Andy offered. “I just came over to see what your story was.” 

Josh and Tyler looked at each other. 

“We own a restaurant,” Josh said. 

“You might have heard of it,” Tyler added. 

“Maybe not, since your vegan,” Josh continued getting a laugh out of the bearded man. 

“That's true,” Tyler said. 

“Well, I am vegan, but you never asked if Professor Sawyer Hannes was vegan...” 

The other two just stared at him in shock. 

“Yes, of course, Sawyer is vegan too.” 

Josh and Tyler breathed a sigh of relief.

“That's good!” Tyler exclaimed. “We thought you lost yourself for a minute there.” 

Andy let out another sound of amusement as they kept up their banter. 

“So, how did the two of you, Merton and Ellery, meet?” 

“It's an interesting story,” Josh said. 

“It is an interesting story,” Tyler thought out loud. 

“Do you wanna-”

“No!” Tyler encouraged, “You're so much better at telling it than me.” 

“Aww, thanks, Merton.” 

“You're welcome, Ellery.” 

Josh turned back to the tattooed man on his right. 

“So I had these pants,” Josh began, “and they never fit quite right. I took them to the local tailors, explained it, and left them there.” 

“So then I, also had these pants that didn't fit right and I also took them to the same tailor.” Tyler said, emphasizing with his hands.

“When I went back to get my pants, they were different pants. I said, 'Hey guy, these aren't my pants!'” 

“And I was sitting in the little waiting area and saw what was happening, so I stood up and said- “ 

Josh took over again. “You said. 'Of course they're not your pants, they're mine!'” 

Tyler grinned back at Josh. 

“And then I shook your hand,” Josh held out his hand to reenact the moment. 

“And I said, 'Hi, my name is Merton. We should open a restaurant together.” 

“'That sounds great!', I said, 'I'm Ellery.'”

“And that's the story of how we met.” 

~

“I don't guess it's a large party,” Ray said, sitting down at the opposite end of the seat Mikey was on. 

“Nah,” Mikey replied, as if he was an authority on the matter. He glanced over at his brother who was reading one of the prop books from the side table.   
“You think Frankie'll be here?” 

Gerard shrugged. “Maybe.” 

“He didn't tell you when you talked to him last week?” 

“I called him with a question about the tour dates and then hung up.” 

Mikey let out a sigh, knowing what that meant. 

Ray was now watching the brother's exchange, or lack thereof, but he kept getting distracted by the décor. 

“Hey, Mikey, come look at this thing,” the curly haired man held up a grotesque statue. “It kind of looks like that creature a fan drew for you that time..where was it?”   
Mikey nodded, “I think it was in New Zealand.” 

~

Pete's laughter echoed through the foyer as the next guest stepped into the large open hallway, then tossed his bag on the ground to give the host an unusual handshake not everyone could follow. 

“Hey, hey Batz!” Frank Iero said, grinning at the taller man. 

“Glad you could make it,” Pete offered. 

“Like I'd miss a party put together by you.” 

“You better not, Torri. I could get you in a lot of trouble real fast.” 

Frank shook his head, pointing an inked finger.

“I could get you in just as much, Batty.” 

Patrick stood in the shadowy doorway right across from the two men that were clearly having a grand time together.   
He'd been listening in on their conversation, curious about this friend of Leon's, but as soon as words came from the shorter man's mouth he could only focus on one thing. 

_Did he just call him...Batz?_

The blond tried to hear more of their discussion but they'd lowered their voices.   
The only thing going through his mind now was the outline of a bat permanently etched on his _'husband's'_ skin beneath his belly button.   
He'd seen it hundreds of times, but what gave this man he'd never even met the right to reference it?  
Patrick suddenly felt tense, his face heating up as he tried to tell himself that there was a perfectly good explanation for it.   
Although it was going to be difficult to look this man in the eye now.   
He hoped he could make it into the front room without Pete noticing. 

“I'd love to introduce you to Emmett but I don't know where he ran off to,” Pete said, his eye catching something moving in the double doorway across from them.

“Oh, there he is,” he waved, “Emmett, darling, come here.” 

The blond paused, knowing he couldn't get out of this now and headed over. 

“Emmett, this is my good friend, Torri Milano.” 

Patrick gave a forced smile as he shook his hand firmly. 

“The one you're always talking about? All the time? The one you always 'do business' with? All the time?”   
Leon backed down a little at the angry look he was getting from the smaller man. 

“Yes...” 

Pete looked very concerned at this point, making Frank chuckle. 

“Sorry, I've never seen you look like that, man.” 

Pete pointed a finger at the Italian, sharply shutting him up on the spot as Patrick slid both arms around his waist, placing a hand on his chest. 

“It's...nice to finally meet you,” Patrick added, though not particularly genuine. 

“You too, Emmett,” Frank smirked, “And if you think I'm after your husband, think again, buddy. He's not my type.” 

Patrick blushed, being called out by the other man.   
Pete gave the man in his arms a loving grin as he shouted up directions to the new guest. 

Patrick tried to let go of him as the embarrassment set in, but Pete wouldn't let him, keeping his own hands locked around his waist.   
“We're gonna have to have people over more often if it makes you territorial,” Pete teased. “I like this jealous streak.” 

Patrick shook his head, laughing at him. 

“Speaking of...why did he call you that?” 

“Call me what?” Pete creased his brow. 

“Batz.” 

“Oh,” Pete chuckled, still playing his role, “We just go way back, is all.” 

~

When Frank returned from upstairs, he met back up with Pete in the front room as the man gathered the guests together.

“Everyone, this is a very good friend of mine, Torri Milano. Please treat him with the same respect as you would me.” 

Pete clapped Frank on the shoulder as most of the guests gave applause or gestures.   
Frank put his hands together, bowing at the group before he went around greeting them. 

It didn't take him long to notice a certain someone towards the back of the room and seized his moment.   
Sauntering up to the man who stood in the shadow of the long curtains on the tall front window, he put on a bright smile. 

The other man looked back with a shy smile of his own. 

“Pleased to meet you,” the dark haired man said, “The name's Salvatore but...friends call me Torri.” 

Gerard stared back at him, thousands of words rushing through his head, his heart pounding, drowning out any cohesive thought as he was offered his hand and everything felt new again. 

“I'm Othello.” 

The shorter man brought his hand up to his lips, pressing a lingering kiss to his fingers.   
Frank beamed back at him, keeping his fingers linked with his, running his other hand through his slicked back hair. “They didn't tell me I needed to look good for this party.”


	6. I'm Wrecking This Evening Already and Loving Every Minute Of It

“I just told the servers to go ahead and come around with drinks,” Patrick said as Pete caught him in the doorway. 

“Okay, I was just coming to do that,” Pete explained, “Thank you.” 

“You don't have to thank me.” Patrick's brow creased as he really took in Pete's demeanor. “You look tired already.” 

Pete chuckled, running a hand across his forehead. “I am.” 

Patrick gave him a gentle smile before slipping his arms around his waist, hoping the embrace would help.  
Usually Pete was the one all over him on stage or even instigating the affection between them as friends.  
Pete grinned, raising his arms to hold Patrick since he rarely got the chance to be that bold with his feelings. 

“Better?” Patrick asked, not moving. 

“...yeah,” Pete sighed, resting his head on top of the blond against his chest. 

“I mean, I know I'm not 'Ryan showing up' but I-” Patrick said, pulling back. 

“Patrick, stop,” Pete warned, “Nothing makes me feel better than a hug from you.”

Patrick smiled, pulling Pete close again. “Alright, then I am going to stand here until you feel better.” 

~

“Boner Party.” 

Joe's eyes widened as he turned to see if that's what he really just heard from Andy's mouth.  
Andy had a proud grin on his face and they both just stared at each other until Joe decided he had to have an explanation.

“What?” 

“Please tell me you remember that or things are about to get really awkward.” Andy said.

“Uh, yeah,” Joe said, “Things just got awkward.” 

“You don't remember 'Boner Party'?”

“Obviously not!” 

“There was that one show we did,” Andy recalled, “early on.” 

“Okay...” 

“So, only like five people showed and it was so embarrassing that we didn't want to be Fall Out Boy so Pete said, 'Fuck it, let's just be Boner Party today.'” 

Joe let out a long chuckle. “That's awesome. I do not have any memory of that. I'm certain I was high on marijuana, like, I'm pretty positive of it.” 

“Or drunk,” Andy said bitterly.

Joe grinned proudly. “Or drunk! Where were we?” 

Andy shrugged. 

“Uh...I think at that weird place in Danville.” 

“Illinois?” 

Andy nodded. 

“What made you think of that just now?” 

Andy chuckled.  
“I looked around the room and realized...it's all guys.” 

Joe glanced at all the people in the room before looking back at his bandmate.  
“I have so many questions and I'm not going to ask a single one.” 

~

“So, you write books?” Frank asked, as he held Gerard's attention. “What a coincidence. I...love to read books. I can prove it.” 

Gerard's cheeks reddened even though he already knew what the other man was going to do. 

He couldn't keep the smile off his face as Frank folded his fingers to properly spell BOOKWORM beneath his knuckles. 

“I didn't think anyone would believe a guy like me would have an interest such as that, so I had to make sure.” 

Gerard nodded, his eyes roaming over the other tattoos on his hands, painting his skin and going up into his suit sleeves. 

“A guy like you?” he asked. “What kind of guy are you?” 

“I'm a good guy,” Frank responded with a smirk, “Unless you like bad boys...then I can be a very bad boy.” 

Gerard broke the eye contact, unable to keep from blushing at the words coming out of Frank's mouth.  
It was ridiculous with the history between them that a little flirting from the younger man would get him so flustered. 

“I meant more like, what do you do for a living?” 

Frank smirked again. 

“Oh...I, uh, I am a business man of sorts,” he explained. “I do a lot of work with Leon.” 

“So you're an art dealer?” 

“Not...exactly,” he said, “It's complicated. A little deeper than that.” 

“Okay, well, is there anything else you can tell me about yourself?” Gerard asked, his hand moving closer to Frank's on the cushion. “Like, more about your tattoos? I've never seen a man decorated quite like you before, not in nineteen twenty seven.” 

Frank let out an adorable laugh. 

“Yeah, I didn't really think about that,” he considered, “but yeah, I am almost completely covered.” 

“Wow, “ Gerard replied, staring into his stunning hazel eyes. 

Gerard moved his hand a little closer, running just a fingertip over the word _ROMANTIC_ on Frank's left hand. “Maybe you could show me some more of them sometime.”

Frank grinned, sliding closer to him and putting his arm behind his neck on the back of the seat, whispering in his ear, “Oh, I'd be happy to show you every...single...one.” 

~

Now that it was just the two of them, after Tyler went up to the room for something, more than likely a Red Bull, Josh turned to look at the man on his right.  
Brendon was staring into space, quiet, which if you knew him, then you knew that wasn't like him at all.  
Josh reached over, poking his arm with one finger, making Brendon's head whip in his direction. 

“You okay?” 

“Yeah,” Brendon put on his stage face. “Dude, c'mon.” 

“It's just us, man,” Josh said, poking him again. 

“I'm just bored.” Brendon admitted, running a hand through his hair. “Don't you fucking dare tell Pete.” 

Josh chuckled, eying Brendon's foot that kept bouncing on his leg. 

“I won't,” the drummer promised, “But I'm not convinced that's all this is about.” 

Brendon threw his head back against the sofa with a groan. “I need another drink.” 

“That won't solve your problems.” 

The singer sat back up quickly to glare at his friend. “Do you wanna fucking bet, Dun!” 

“Relax,” Josh recoiled, “I was just trying to help.” 

“Sure you were,” Brendon scoffed. 

“I was!” 

Brendon turned away so Josh wouldn't see the smirk on his face.

The drummer sighed, letting Brendon suffer on his own.  
He didn't see Brendon out of the corner of his eye, lunging at him, pinning him to the cushion.  
Josh couldn't help but let laughter escape even as he warned him. 

“You know, I don't think men like us in this time period are supposed to act like this.” 

“Do I look like I care?” said the singer, still not budging. 

“People are looking at us.” 

”Still don't care.” 

“Ow, that's my rib!” 

Brendon moved his elbow. 

“I guess I'm sorry about that,” he rolled his eyes. 

“I have a boyfriend.” Josh tried once again to get Brendon off of him.

“What he doesn't know won't hurt him,” Brendon wiggled his eyebrows. 

“I'll tell him anyway because we don't-” Josh squirmed, “keep things from each other. Seriously, that is an important bone or organ.”  
Josh scowled up at Brendon who just laughed, giving him another poke and to the rest of the room they must have looked like two cats fighting. 

“You know how upset and easily jealous Tyler gets, I don't want to hurt him unnecessarily.” 

Brendon let out a dramatic, “Ugh!”, finally letting Josh sit back up in a normal position. 

“It's just me! Doesn't he know by now that I'm gonna be all over you?”

But Josh had stopped listening the moment he locked eyes with Tyler across the room. 

He had seen them. 

His frown and drooped shoulders said it all. 

Tyler turned to rush out of the room as Josh stood up, heading after him. 

Brendon stayed behind, left alone with only his lonely thoughts.

~

“Uh, hi.” 

Patrick turned around at the sound of a soft voice, surprised to see the tall skinny blond standing there.  
The singer smiled politely to hide his confusion, unsure of why the man would approach him. 

“Hi, Jasper,” he said, “What can I do for you?” 

Mikey shrugged.  
“I just wanted to say hi,” he replied “I didn't see you when I got here.” 

Patrick nodded. 

“Been a...while,” Mikey added. 

“It sure has,” Patrick said, suddenly feeling old. “How are you? You look great.” 

It was certainly undeniable. The bassist appeared more put together and a lot happier than when they used to spend time together. 

“Thanks, man,” Mikey replied, “Yeah, a lot has changed.” 

“That's for sure, “ Patrick chuckled. 

Pete came around the corner then, flashing the two men an odd look. 

“I was going to introduce you two but I see you already met.” 

Patrick smirked, sticking out his hand to Mikey. “Emmett...nice to meet you.” 

“Jasper.” 

“I think we've met, though,” Patrick recalled, “I'm certain you brought a delivery here before.” 

“Probably.” Mikey agreed.

It took a minute as awkward silence fell between the three, for Pete to realize that was indeed the only way to describe it.

Awkward.

“That's what else I wanted to know,” Mikey finally asked, “Are the drinks...” 

“They're safe,” Pete replied, “We're not serving alcohol before dinner, unless asked.”

Mikey nodded, giving a thumbs up. 

“Shouldn't be serving it at all. This is prohibition, is it not?”

Pete and Patrick both laughed at the joke, the shorter man laughing a little too hard. 

“That's good,” Pete said as Mikey thanked them, heading back into the front room. 

Pete turned to Patrick as the blond began messing with a vase on a table in the foyer, convincing himself that was what he came over there for to begin with. 

“What were you two even talking about when I walked in?” 

“I couldn't tell you.” 

“Tell me.” 

“No, Pete, like, I can't place it. It seemed like he wanted something but was nervous to ask. Maybe it was just about the drinks...when he came over initially he said he just wanted to say hi.” 

Pete looked concerned, which of course, wasn't that unusual. 

Patrick returned to his fake vase placement, not really wanting to continue the subject of Mikey Way, but he couldn't help it. 

“He did seem like he wanted to say something else to me.”

Pete shrugged. “Honestly, it's Mikey...we may never know.” 

~

“So, this book you're writing, Othello,” Frank asked with a smirk, “What's the name of it?” 

Gerard looked down with a small smile of his own. 

“Party Poison.” 

Frank let out a giggle that he swore filled the room. 

“That's rad.” 

“Yeah,” Gerard said proudly, “I thought so, too.” 

“Are you just starting it, or...?” 

“Yeah, I'm about a hundred pages in. It's centered around a big party. I almost didn't come to this one but I thought it'd be great inspiration.” 

Frank nodded.  
“Seems like a good plan,” he said, “I, for one, am very glad you decided to come. It wouldn't be the same without you.” 

Gerard reached over, placing his hand over Frank's causing the man's eyes to meet his immediately. 

As someone chose then to have a seat on the other side of Frank. 

“Hey guys!” Ray grinned, “Wanna drink? I got a whole tray.”

Gerard politely declined while Frank looked like he could use a real one. 

Ray sat back, with his own glass in hand, sipping from it as if they were at a tea party. 

“I wonder when dinner'll be?” he pondered, glancing around the room like he was missing something. 

“Six, I think,” Gerard offered, getting an odd look from Frank. “It was on our cards.” he explained. 

Frank moved his mouth to the side, Nodding slowly as none of them had anything to say now. 

He didn't budge as Gerard pulled out a note pad from his jacket pocket and jotted something down on a piece of paper before ripping it off. 

Frank was surprised when he handed it to him, Ray oblivious beside them as he read it. 

_'You're wrong. It wouldn't be the same without you.'_

~

“I'm sorry.” 

Josh let out a warm chuckle as he continued to run a hand up and down Tyler's spine as they sat on the stairs.  
“That's the first thing you've said in the last twenty minutes and you have nothing to be sorry for.” 

“Of course I do,” Tyler sighed. 

“No, that's me. I'm the one that's sorry.” Josh offered.

“You have nothing to be sorry for. You sat in silence with me for the last – has it really been twenty minutes?” 

“Yep,” Josh nodded. “I got my handy dandy old timey watch right here. Not totally sure if that's correct 'cause I can't really read watches like these.”  
He giggled, pulling up his sleeve a bit to prove it, his bright tattoo creating contrast with the neutrals he was wearing.  
“See? And of course I sat with you. You were clearly working through something.”

“Was...yeah,” Tyler admitted, “You and Brendon.” 

“And that's what I'm sorry for.” 

Tyler shook his head.  
“No, you don't have to be.” 

“But I am,” Josh frowned. “I should've pushed him away.” 

“No, he's your friend. Our friend.” 

“But you're my Best Fren.” 

Tyler smiled slowly before burying his face in his arms.  
“Really?” 

Josh blushed, biting his tongue as he grinned.  
“Always.” 

Tyler moved, tucking his head under Josh's chin.  
“You know I trust you?”

“Of course,” Josh beamed, though he couldn't see it. “That doesn't mean you're not going to have trouble dealing with seeing other people around me and that's okay. It's okay to feel that way.” 

Tyler leaned his elbows on his knees and ran his hands over the sides of his hair frantically.  
“But you should be allowed to have fun with other people and not feel like I'm keeping you from that.”

Josh glided his hand up to Tyler's neck, giving him a soothing squeeze.  
“The only one I wanna have fun with, babe, is you.” 

Tyler let out a long, troubled, sigh, leaning against Josh's chest.  
“What did I do to deserve you?” he whispered so low Josh almost didn't catch it. 

“Be Tyler Joseph.” 

Tyler sat back up, gazing back at Josh before resting their foreheads together. 

“I love you.” Josh said gently as Tyler grinned.

“I love you, two one.” 

~

“Sorry,” Joe said, dropping back down next to Andy, “That was a phone call,” he whispered. 

“They had phones in the twenties, Joe.” 

“Not cellular phones,” Joe replied, pulling the top of it out of his pocket so only Andy could see. “Anyway, that was my contractor for the house problem. They're gonna take longer than I thought.” 

Andy sat up, clasping his hands together.  
“Did they give you a date?” 

“At least a week,” Joe shook his head, “I guess tonight I'll book a room somewhere and pretend we're on tour, just playing the same show every night.” 

“Joe?” 

“Or I can just buy this place off Pete and Patrick.” 

“Joe?” Andy placed a hand on his arm getting his attention quickly, “Just stay with me.” 

“Was that a statement or a question?” 

Andy rolled his eyes.  
“You 'lawyers' and your proper word usage.” 

“I'm asking because if it was a statement then I'll stay with you, no questions asked,” Joe said, “but if it was a question then I'll put up a fight until you convince me otherwise.”

Andy grinned, “Sounds like fun...but it was a statement.”

“Okay, you win, I'll stay with you.” 

~

Mikey let out a long sigh as he came back into the front room and saw another figure sitting with his brother and Frank.  
“Seriously?” he mouthed to himself, throwing up his hands hard enough to slosh the drink he was carrying.

This wasn't part of the plan. 

To any of the others he probably looked like a lunatic making gestures and talking to himself but he didn't care. 

Not when his brother's happiness was being threatened by their own bandmate. 

Sure, he probably should have let Ray in on his hopes that the two would reconnect but he couldn't risk him spilling and ruining it all. 

He'd have to go get him and drag him away himself. 

“Hey, guys,” Mikey threw on a rare smile as he approached them, “Can I borrow Grover for a sec...I wanna show him something.” 

Ray didn't have much of a choice as Mikey grabbed his wrist, pulling him off the couch and clear across the room to the first interesting piece of art he could find. 

~

Patrick paused in the foyer as he smiled at Josh and Tyler coming off the stairs.  
The two had been sitting on the landing for quite some time and he was starting to be concerned.  
They seemed happy now, but he hoped they weren't just putting on a face for them and the party.  
In other words he hoped they were having a good time.

“Hey, uh, wait a second,” Patrick called and they turned back as he came closer. 

“I don't want to pry...and you're welcome to tell me to mind my own business, but are you two alright?” 

Josh and Tyler shared a glance as Josh pulled Tyler closer to him, realizing he'd seen them together.  
“We're great!” 

Patrick nodded, unsure he believed them. 

“I was just having a moment,” Tyler offered, “And...Ellery got me through it.” 

A small smile came over Patrick, glancing between the two of them.  
He understood that, having gotten Pete through enough 'moments' in the past. 

“Okay, I get it,” he said, “I just wanted to be sure there wasn't anything we could do for you guys.” 

“Nope, we are totally good,” Josh beamed. 

“This is a great party,” Tyler added

Patrick blushed humbly, “Thank you, but it's all Leon's doings. The, uh, best part is, the fun hasn't even started yet.” 

Tyler clapped excitedly as they followed Patrick back into the front room. 

“And dinner is in about,” the blond checked his watch, “half an hour, give or take.” 

“Sounds good, Emmett,” said Josh with a proud smile that he'd actually remembered his name. 

“Thank you for feeding us this time instead of, you know, us feeding you and Leon at the restaurant,” Tyler grinned. 

Patrick chuckled, “You're very welcome, we're happy to have you here.”

“We're happy to be here,” Josh smiled. 

“Two happy boys.” 

Patrick grinned at the pair as they headed off, glad they were truly having a good time.  
He stood there for a minute having forgotten what he was doing back in the foyer to begin with.  
When he finally remembered, he heard someone speak behind him, making him turn away from his task again. 

“Emmett?” 

The blond turned to see Gerard standing there. 

“Yes, what can I do?” 

“Is there anywhere I can take a phone call?” 

Patrick raised a hand to gesture, “Yes, right in here.” 

Patrick led him down the hallway towards the back door to a small room on the right, behind the stairs. 

“There you are, anything else?”

“Thank you,“ Gerard smiled, but the smaller man could tell it wasn't real. 

There was something wrong, but he was determined not to pry in his personal life too after just accosting Josh and Tyler. 

He didn't think it had to do with the party or anything he or Pete did, so he was going to have to let it go. 

“Alright, I'll leave you to it,” Patrick replied awkwardly. 

Gerard let out a long sigh, as if he were dreading this phone call. 

“Please let us know if you need anything else,” Patrick added, “We're always here for you.” 

“For Othello?” 

“Him too,” Patrick smiled, “But I meant for you, Gerard.” 

~

Brendon took a sip from the glass of his second drink, the sigh that escaped was so loud he knew the guys on the opposite side of the room could hear.  
His left foot tapped on his right knee so fast and he was hoping the alcohol would kick in soon.  
He knew that he would relax once Spencer arrived or at least if he knew his ETA.  
Giving a quick glance around the room to make sure no one was looking, Brendon slipped his phone out of his pocket and grabbed a newspaper from the table beside him to disguise it.

**_Brendon >>>Hey, I'm at this party. Are you coming?_**

He typed in the the little box under Spencer's name, seeing the link to a demo from some client of Spencer's that he'd sent for him to listen to last week. 

“Text me back, boy. I know you have your phone with you,” Brendon said out loud to himself, “Like, in your fucking hand.” 

“Who's fucking hand?” 

Brendon looked up to see Josh and Tyler standing there as he sent two question marks.

“Are we talking about Patrick?” Tyler asked. “We just saw him in the foyer and he still had both his hands...thank goodness!” 

“That's a good one!” Brendon laughed, glancing back down at his hidden phone as it buzzed. 

**_Spencer >>> I'll be there tomorrow, dude._**

Brendon let out a long breath, feeling the anxiety fading. 

**_Brendon >>>OK see you then_**

He sent the message back, putting his phone away and folded the newspaper back up. 

“Was that a Cellular Telephone?” Josh gasped.

“...No” 

“I'm gonna tell Leon on you!” Tyler added. 

“I'm Aristotle Demille and I can get away with anything.” 

“I've noticed,” Tyler said bitterly under his breath. 

The man in the top hat sighed, taking another sip from his drink. 

“I'm sorry,” he said, “I should have thought about your feelings, Tyler.” 

“Thank you...but I know you're not sorry for playing around with Josh and that's okay.” 

“Well then, I'll just keep saying it until you believe me!” 

“It's fine, really, I appreciate it,” 

“Tyler,” Brendon began again. 

“Merton,” Tyler reminded him. 

“Merton, I - “ 

Josh sat up, between them,“You do know I'm still here, right?”

“Of course,” Tyler grinned at him. 

“Look, “ Brendon began as his phone buzzed again in his pocket, causing him to pay attention to that instead of them. 

Josh took that moment to turn back to Tyler who was already staring at him.

The drummer smiled, leaning his head down to rest on his, their noses brushing together. 

“Is that your 'boyfriend'?” Josh teased Brendon, who was still trying to hide his phone and text at the same time. 

“...yeah,” Brendon replied but it was clear Josh didn't really care at this point, having buried his face in Tyler's neck.

The ukelele player let out an embarrassing sound as he tried to push Josh away half-heartedly. 

“Stay in your lane, boy.” 

Josh giggled into his skin, sitting up enough to press their foreheads back together.

“We go where we want to.” 

The two we were so wrapped up in each other neither noticed their friend staring at them in disgust. 

“You two are sick,” he shook his head, chuckling. “Are you really flirting over the lyrics to your own song?” 

Tyler hung his head, nodding sheepishly. 

“Must be nice,” Brendon laughed bitterly. “Not really an option for me, anymore.” 

~

“Enjoying the party, Fun Ghoul?” 

Frankie smirked at Pete as he approached the man, drink in hand. 

“Very much so,” the shorter man said, “I especially like your guest list.” 

Pete smiled knowingly, “Someone in particular?” 

Frank's grin said it all as he glanced down before taking a sip from his glass. 

“Yeah...someone in particular.” 

Pete nodded, feeling more hopeful about the party in general. 

“So, Leon,” Frank continued, “I wanted to ask you something.” 

“Okay.” 

“That meeting you had with our boss the other day...what'd he say about me?” 

Pete chuckled, clapping the younger man on the shoulder. 

“That meeting was confidential, Torri,” he said with a mischievous grin. 

Frank gave him a glare. 

“But,” Pete said, sliding his arm around his shoulder, “If you brought me the 'item' we discussed...I'll tell you the boss' plans for you.” 

Frank's eyes lit up. 

“Of course I brought it! It's upstairs in my room, when do you want it?” 

Pete glanced around them, “After dinner.” 

~

Patrick's eyes narrowed as he watched yet another exchange between his 'husband' and Frank.  
He couldn't recall any particular plans for 'Torri', nothing he and Pete discussed came to mind.

What made him so special? 

What did Pete want with him now? 

A long sigh escaped, disappearing into the air where he stood behind the doorway to the front room. 

The singer turned, needing another moment alone to ponder this as he tried to keep down the feelings of jealousy. 

Pete could have other friends. 

It was widely known that Frank was gay. 

Pete could have- 

No, there was no way. 

The bassist wanted this whole party so their friends could find a way back to each other.

Why would he get in the way of his own plan by flirting with one half of his desired result? 

Stepping forward, Patrick winced as he stubbed his shoe on the desk in the foyer, placing his hand flat on the top to steady himself.  
Right on top of a newspaper with a headline that instantly caught his eye. 

**MOB VIOLENCE ESCALATES** – **Gang Chief Salvatore 'Torri' Milano at the Helm!**

~

“So then I said, 'That's not the occasion to use chrysanthemums for!'” 

Andy and Joe both turned to each other and forced out a laugh as Ray was rolling over his own inside joke. 

“It was some day! Maybe you had to be there, but I tell you what, I never would have gotten all those deliveries done without Jasper! Have you ever used his service?”

“I have a few times,” the bearded man replied. “I was very impressed. He brought things back to the library for me before and another time I sent him with an old family map I was loaning to a friend and my friend was thrilled with how quickly he arrived with it.” 

Joe turned to his left slowly, giving the man a once over.

Ray nodded, staring right at Andy.

“And no kidding, he's just as good at his poker games too! He and I will play a round or two if he's in between deliveries! You boys ever played with him?” Ray inquired.

Andy shook his head as he shoved his hands in his pockets.  
“No, that's not really my thing.”

“Well...”Joe spoke up but used a quiet tone, “I may have humored Jasper in the past with a game or two. He seemed like he didn't have anyone to play with at the time so I thought it'd be a nice thing to do. But he's good! Beat me every time!”

Ray nodded, eying the the short haired man.

“Yep! He'll do that! It's that damn good poker face he has!” 

~

Pete wasn't exactly sure what expression he gave Brendon when the younger man came over and tapped him on the shoulder. He felt bad all evening for ignoring him but he'd been so busy making sure everything was going smoothly.  
Not to mention the topic of his 'fiance' hanging over them. 

“I'm starving,” Brendon demanded, “When's dinner?” 

Pete chuckled, “I forgot, you Hollywood fashionistas want what you want when you want it.” 

The singer wiggled his eyebrows. 

“Soon...we're waiting on one more guest.” 

Pete tried to walk away then, pretending to be busy with something. 

“Oh, I almost forgot, “ Brendon said, “I was getting lonely without my fiance so I talked to him and he said he wouldn't be here until tomorrow, so you don't have to wait on him.” 

Pete's eyes widened, his mouth dropping as a wave of confusion hit him hard.  
“You talked to him?” 

Brendon nodded.  
“Yes, to 'Sebastian'. I texted him.” 

“You did what?!” 

“I'm sorry,” he said, “I know I wasn't supposed to have devices out, but I couldn't wait. You know me! So I sent Spencer a quick message. No one saw me, I swear.” 

“You said Spencer?” 

“Yeah, who the fuck else, c'mon?” 

Pete laughed as he recovered from his internal freak out. 

“Of course,” he said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I don't know what got to me. All these names, man...” 

Brendon nodded, “I got you.” 

Pete pinched the bridge of his nose, knowing he needed out of this conversation quick.  
“Speaking of dinner, I actually was on my way to check on the status of it, so I will be back in a minute,” he said, heading out before Brendon could stop him. 

He rounded the corner, passing Gerard and walking with no particular purpose down to the smallest room at the end of the hall. He threw open the door with more force than he intended and was met with a pair of terrified blue eyes. 

“Thank goodness.” 

“Thank God, it's you.” 

They both said at the same time, as Pete went to join Patrick by the window. 

“Sorry I scared you,” the taller man said, running his hands down his arms to soothe him. 

“Thank you, but...we have more important things to discuss.” 

“Tell me about it!” Pete said.

“Leon...” Patrick huffed, “There is a notorious mobster in our house.” 

Pete stared at Patrick's cute little creased brow and his pouty lips, wanting nothing more than to calm him down.

“That...'Torri' man you call your friend is a well known gangster who has done terrible things!” 

Pete chuckled warmly, just glad he wasn't accusing him of such things.  
“Em...Emmett, please,” he spoke gently, sliding his hands down to link with his, hoping that would relax him, “he's a good guy.” 

“I thought he was your friend!” 

“He is,” he chuckled again, unable to hide his amusement. “He won't hurt you, I won't let him.” 

Patrick couldn't help but smile at that and locked eyes with Pete's as he shifted closer.  
Of all the times he'd protected Pete's heart, it was an odd feeling hearing him say he would protect him.  
He had an overwhelming rush come over him as Pete leaned closer, resting their foreheads together for a brief moment. 

“Patrick,” he cleared his throat, “we really have more pressing matters than gangsters right now.” 

“Like what?” Patrick asked, leaning back even though Pete didn't. “Why didn't you say something? Letting me go all 'concerned husband' on you.” 

Pete laughed, “It's fine, I liked it. It was cute,” he shrugged. 

Patrick blushed, hoping Pete wouldn't notice in the low lit room, though highly unlikely with their close proximity. 

“What's going on, Pete?” 

“I almost spilled to Brendon who his fiance was!” 

“What?” Patrick's eyes grew, “How?” 

Pete rubbed over the stress lines on his head as he began to pace in the small smoking room. 

“I thought he texted Ryan.” 

“What?” 

“That's what I said,” Pete sighed, “But it turns out he's still convinced it's Spencer, so he texted him.” 

“Okay, that's good.” Patrick said, “Did you text Spencer to tell him not to tell Brendon he's not Sebastian?” 

“No,” Pete's brow creased as he pulled out his phone, “but that's a good idea. I don't even know if it matters at this point since Ryan's obviously not coming.” 

Patrick wanted so badly to say that wasn't true, that he could still come.  
That his most important plans weren't ruined.  
Patrick let out a sad sigh of his own, coming over to join Pete leaning against the back of a settee. 

“We never talked about the possibility of Ryan not coming because I actually believed he would,” Pete shook his head. 

Patrick placed a hand on his shoulder, leaning closer.  
“I did, too,” the blond admitted, making Pete smile. 

“It doesn't matter what we think, we have to make this speech before dinner and come up with something to tell Brendon after.”  
Patrick gave him a somber smile. “How about the truth?” 

~

No one seemed to notice the hosts slipping back into the room, giving them both another moment to compose themselves. 

“I'm nervous,” Pete whispered. 

“What? Why?” 

“You usually are the one talking.” 

“I can if you want me to, but this is the party you dreamed up,” Patrick pointed out. “You really should be the one to speak to everybody.” 

Pete took a deep breath and grabbed two drinks off a passing tray. 

“Yeah, you're right,” he said, taking a sip from his and handing the other to Patrick. 

“Just speak from the heart,” said the blond. “You're good at that.” 

Pete couldn't contain a bright grin at that and turned towards the guests. 

If he didn't do this now, he knew he'd back out. 

He grabbed a letter opener from the table behind them, giving another look at Patrick's supportive smile before colliding it gently with his glass.  
Everyone looked over at the sound and Pete knew he had to make some sort of announcement at this point. 

“Umm...,” Pete began with a small chuckle. “First of all, I want to thank you all for coming.” 

Pete gave his best friend another glance and pulled him close as he gave a nod of encouragement. 

“ _We_ want to thank you all for coming to our party,” He continued, “When I first was planning this, I had not told my 'husband' what I was up to. You all knowing Emmett well, could guess he was surprised I would keep something, anything from him.”

The small crowd chuckled. 

“The reason I didn't tell him at first was because I never thought you would actually want to attend a party like this, so if I'm being honest, standing here addressing you all is...wild.” 

Everyone let out another sound of amusement as they kept their eyes on the hosts. 

“I came up with this, wanting a place where we could all reconnect and the only word I continued to see was 'together'. I wanted us all to be together and have fun and...with as much history as we all have I'd love it if this party was remembered for centuries.” 

Everyone applauded the two hosts, raising their glasses or clinking them with the person they were next to. 

Pete was beaming at the response from the group and the only thing that could break the moment was a loud knock on the front door. 

Patrick turned to meet Pete's eyes but they were already on him. 

He'd heard it, too. 

“This either better be Ryan or a pizza delivery guy,” Pete said stiffly, low enough that only they could hear.

Leaving Patrick to tend to the crowd, Pete shuffled out into the foyer and to the front door with his heart on his sleeve. 

He grasped the handle tentatively, unsure of who he'd find on the other side of it. 

A huge grin grew onto his face as he stared at the taller person, an ecstatic chuckle surfacing. 

Ryan Ross stood there on the porch with the appearance he would rather be anywhere else in the world right now. 

Pete opened the door and opened his mouth as Ryan entered the foyer. 

“Shut up,” Ryan warned the older man, closing his eyes as if that would prove to himself he wasn't really there and he wasn't really doing this. 

Pete stared at him, wanting to throw his arms around this man for multiple reasons, but too afraid it would send him running. 

The bassist smiled again, hoping Ryan would be more receptive, but just glad he was there. 

“Welcome to Lamont Manor,” he offered. “May I introduce you?” 

Ryan let out a long sigh, dangling his bags by his side and followed Pete. 

“If you must...” 

~

“Attention everyone, we have another guest,” most of them turned toward the front room doorway. 

“I'd like you all to meet Sebastian Oliviera, Aristotle's fiance.” 

Ryan forced the smallest of smiles to the room before his eyes locked with big brown ones in the middle of the group. 

Brendon Urie staring back, helping to build the tension between them like a wall. 

Neither of them moving, while the party continued around them, blurring around them, until it was just two.


	7. It's All Over Now, Before It Has Begun, We've Already Won

Brendon swore every single person in that room had their eyes trained on him now that he was coming back to reality.  
Across the room, Ryan Ross was staring back, so still as if he were Just another statue among the others poised around.  
Brendon felt his feet moving without permission as he knew deep down that he had to approach the other man to keep up appearances.  
This was his 'fiance', after all.  
Ryan took the smallest step back, avoiding eye contact as Brendon got closer.  
Pete smiled at Brendon trying not to let any of the giddy excitement he was trying to hold in, bubble to the surface.

“Aristotle, please take Sebastian upstairs and show him to your room.” 

Brendon wasn't even sure he'd heard Pete speak at first as he just kept his eyes on Ryan.  
Ryan let out a long sigh, unable to look at anyone at the moment and headed back into the foyer towards the stairs.  
Brendon seemed as if he were touched, he would fall over or crumple to the ground and this time it was him who was stuck in place.  
That was of course until he turned somewhat of a glare on Pete, sticking up a middle finger where only the two of them could see.  
Pete let out an amused chuckle as Brendon made his way out into the hall, following Ryan upstairs instead of the other way around.  
Brendon's heart was racing in his chest by the time they reached the door with their names on it and he opened it slowly, the whiny hinges the only sound filling the room.  
Brendon wasn't sure what to say or if he could even speak properly if he tried. Seeing Ryan standing there in the room was still so surreal especially after having prepared himself to be sharing it with Spencer. 

He was going to have to have a chat with Pete. 

Ryan set his stuff down on the dresser, his guitar case taking up most of one end and Brendon couldn't help but smile at that. Ryan wouldn't be Ryan if he didn't tote it around with him and he was glad that hadn't changed. 

Brendon swallowed the lump in his throat then as he realized he'd just been standing there.  
“...Hello.” 

Ryan finally let the white knuckle grip on his bags go but still avoided the other man's direction.  
“...yeah.” 

Brendon stepped in front of him, throwing open a drawer.  
“There's plenty of room in the dresser, I put a few things in here but you can move my stuff if you like these drawers better. And you're welcome to move my stuff, period. Or I can, if it's in your way. There's also this great armoire over here, plenty of room in it,” Brendon rattled off nervously, patting the side of the tall piece of furniture. 

Ryan turned away again when Brendon's eyes found his.  
“I'm not unpacking,” he shook his head, “I don't even know if I'm staying.” 

Brendon's face fell as he dropped his arms to his side.  
“Oh...okay,” Brendon stared at the side of Ryan's head for a second before walking over to the doorway. “Look...Don't leave and ruin Pete's party just because I'm here.” 

Ryan scoffed.  
“I wouldn't do such a thing, Pete's the only reason I'm here.” 

Brendon turned away, pretending those words didn't hurt.  
“I want you to know I had nothing to do with this.” 

Ryan rubbed at a spot above his eyebrow. “Yeah..I know.” 

Brendon gave the man he hadn't seen in over five years another good glance as if he'd poof away once he left the room. Knowing he couldn't stand there staring all evening, he walked out, going wherever his trembling legs would take him. 

Ryan let out a sigh once he was finally alone again. He backed up, dropping onto the bed, covering his face with both hands. 

How was he going to go back out and face Brendon?

Or any of them, for that matter?

Glancing around as he realized he hadn't paid attention at first, he noticed the antiques scattered around in various displays were truly breathtaking and he briefly wondered about asking Pete if he could take those too, along with the clothes.  
It wasn't difficult to admire the gorgeous drapes and the wardrobe Brendon had talked about.  
Not to mention the carved mahogany bed.  
“Damn it,” Ryan whispered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “There's only one bed.” 

~

Pete stood in the same spot as he was when Ryan and Brendon went upstairs.  
Unmoving and hands at his sides, Patrick walked over to stand next to him so it wouldn't look like he was glued to the floor. 

“Pete?” Patrick tried connecting with him, “I know you're in there. Let's take this 'surprise party' out here where our guests aren't an audience.”  
Pete blinked a few times and that was a good enough reply for Patrick, he grabbed the other man's wrist dragging him out into the hall.  
Once they were hidden, to the right of the stairs, Patrick revealed a grin, “I can't believe he actually showed.” 

“This was a mistake.” 

Patrick's brow creased as the words left his best friend's mouth.  
“Inviting Ryan?” he asked, laughing bitterly. “Pete, that's all you've talked about for the last month!” 

“No, all of this,” Pete explained, “It was all a mistake! Why did you let me plan this party?” 

Patrick's eyes widened at Pete's rant and he couldn't even believe what he was hearing. 

“We should tell everyone to go home.” Pete worried.

“Pete,” the singer took him by the shoulders, “We have an expensive house, full of hungry friends. This whole thing has been your dream for weeks and your star JUST showed up. Seriously, you convinced Ryan Ross to come out of hiding! If that doesn't tell you that this party means something, I don't know what will.” 

Pete let out a long sigh.  
“Patrick, you're my star,” he said. “Honestly, I would not have gotten this far without you.”

The singer couldn't help but smile.  
His cheeks turned pink at the compliment even though Pete probably had told him that ten times in the last hour.  
“Pete, why are you changing your mind now?” 

The older man paced back and forth a few steps before pausing.  
“Brendon.” 

“What about him?” 

“What if I've ruined our relationship forever? You know...what if he stops speaking to me or what about wanting to cut ties with the label or... what if he never wants to collaborate again or have dinner together.”  
Patrick sighed, “It's Brendon, he's very forgiving, especially when it comes to you.” 

Pete looked so torn up over this.  
“He flipped me off,” Pete pouted, “before he went upstairs.” 

Patrick chuckled, “I know, I saw him do it. Why are you acting like this is the first time?” 

“What if all our friends hate me that much by the end of this? That's all I could think of!” 

“This is why I don't ship!” Patrick explained. 

Pete's sad, worried face made Patrick's heart ache. He could even see Pete holding back tears. 

“No one will hate you,” Patrick took Pete's hand. “Maybe Ryan, but he hated us all to begin with so that's not that bad.”  
Pete let out a small laugh that still had a hint of nervousness to it.  
“How about we get through dinner and then go from there?” Patrick suggested gently.  
Pete nodded reluctantly, pulling him in for a quick hug before dragging him by the arm back towards the front room. 

~

“I can't believe he planned this whole stupid party just to get Brendon and Ryan Ross back together.”

Andy looked over at Joe as he ranted beside him. 

“I mean, does he actually think he can get them to get along?”

Andy shrugged. 

“Is this just Pete's newest business venture? Being a matchmaker or something?” Joe continued, “He's starting with all of us to see if he's good at it? Jokes on you, buddy, you're not settin' me up with anyone!” 

Andy laughed out loud as Joe shouted at the doorway to the front room where Pete and Patrick just left.  
He clamped a hand over Joe's mouth so he wouldn't make another scene at their friend's party. 

“Joe!” Andy warned, yanking his hand away as quickly as he put it there, “Gross, did you just lick me?” 

Joe put on his signature crazy smile as Andy wiped his fingers on his pants. 

“I don't know where that tongue has been.” 

Joe leaned up on the seat, closer to his companion, “I will show you where my tongue has been, Hurley,” he grinned wiggling his eyebrows.

Andy shook his head at Joe. Stretching his legs out in front of him, wishing he was in gym shorts right about now. 

“I wondered if he put this whole thing together to seal the deal with Patrick,” Andy observed. 

Joe's eyebrows shot up again. “I didn't know old houses, the twenties, and having all your friends in close quarters was such a turn on for Patrick.” 

Andy chuckled, tossing his head back as Joe caught a glimpse of his neck tattoo peeking out from his collar.  
“I meant the whole 'husbands' thing. I think he intended Patrick to see his feelings for him.” Andy added.

Joe fake gasped, “Pete has feelings for Patrick?! I never would have guessed!” 

Andy shook his head and Joe was going over something in his own. 

“It'll be weird if they actually do get together,” he said, out loud. 

“We've been waiting for it for years,” Andy pointed out.

“Exactly,” said Joe, “I kinda wanna be like 'called it' or something like that.”

Andy chuckled, “They did kiss earlier.”

“Yeah, you could tell that was just for show. You know, the whole 'husbands' thing?” 

Andy nodded, wondering when Joe became such an expert on this subject.

“Could you imagine if Pete had paired you and I up? Awkward.” 

“Yeah,” Andy said, his eyes falling from Joe's eyes down to his lips. “Awkward.” 

~

Brendon barely heard the footsteps behind him as the song he was humming and mumbling was as loud in his head as if he were on stage performing.  
His leg tapped on the landing below as he sat on the stairs and he couldn't process much else besides the feeling of his hands still shaking at the thought of Ryan right in the other room.  
He ran them through his hair, making the product in it stick up, then frantically patting it back down in case it looked weird.  
As a door shut behind him, he turned around to scramble to his feet. 

“Oh,” Ryan said, hands in his pockets, “You're still here.” 

Brendon threw caution to the wind and looked right at him even though the other man refused to return his gaze. “Well, yeah, we are 'fiances', I figured Pete would appreciate it if we came back downstairs together.” 

Ryan shrugged, only taking out a hand to grasp the railing, walking ahead, “Fine, whatever.” 

Brendon followed behind, picking up the pace to catch up with him as they headed into the front room. 

Ryan paused, taking a spot by the wall and Brendon watched, wanting to see what he would do next as if they were playing some bizarre mirror game.  
He was beginning to wonder if they were just going to stand there in silence until dinner, when someone approached them. 

“Hi!” Tyler said as Josh pulled him over to the awkward pair. 

“Salutations,” Josh grinned, sticking out his hand, grabbing Ryan's to shake. “I can't believe it. We finally get to meet the man Aristotle has told us so much about.” 

Brendon's eyes widened as he grimaced at the drummer. 

“Sebastian, was it?” 

“Apparently,” Ryan replied bitterly. 

“Well, I'm Ellery and this is my boyfriend Merton.” 

Ryan's mouth formed a straight line as he nodded. 

“We own a restaurant. You two should come some time. We'd love to have you.”

Josh gave Brendon a sympathetic smile as Tyler rambled on about their nonexistent business beside him.  
“So, Sebastian, what is it-” Josh was cut off as Pete and Patrick reentered the room announcing that the doors to the dining room were open and they all knew what that meant. 

Food. 

Ryan let out a sigh of relief as that cut the conversation short and everyone stopped what they were doing to follow the hosts.  
Ryan hoped Brendon would walk on without noticing as he paused to speak with Pete in the doorway. 

“Pete,” he began as the man glanced over his shoulder to make sure everyone was out of the front room, “I don't know if I can do this. I...I do appreciate being included, but...”

Pete knew what was supposed to be at the end of that sentence without him having to say. 

Pete tried not to look too disappointed as he made an attempt to get him to stay. 

“How about this: you're here, dinner's ready. Let me at least feed you for your trouble and then if you totally hate us all by the end of the meal, then...I'll call you a ride.” 

“I don't hate you,” Ryan looked down at his shoes, “I could never. Although, you should hate me.”

“I probably should. I don't. I've always had a soft spot for you since the day we met, but,” Pete patted him on the shoulder, “we have all weekend to discuss that. Let's eat!” 

Ryan shook his head, “I see what you did, there,” he said as Pete chuckled evilly as they followed the last guest into the dining room. 

~

“I didn't realize you were such a gentleman,” Gerard said as Frank pulled his chair out for him. 

“I can be,” Frank smirked, willing away the blush in his cheeks. “I reserve it for special people only.” 

“Is that so?” Gerard replied, picking up his menu to focus on so his face wouldn't match the younger man's. “Who else is on this list?”

Frank pretended to think about it, grabbing his own menu card. “So far?” he asked, “Just one.”

Gerard glanced back at him, losing interest in the food again until Frank looked back at him. 

“I've really missed this,” Frank said, a twinkle in his eye. 

Gerard turned his attention back to his menu after throwing a smile at Frank. “I don't know what you're talking about, Mr. Milano...we just met.” 

Frank smirked even though Gerard wasn't looking.  
“Apologies, Mr. Greenwood, you're right,” he said, “but I feel like I've known you forever.” 

~

“So fancy,” Tyler whispered to Josh as they had a seat at the polished, rectangular table. 

The room was filled with more art than one would expect and the drapes covering the front window were like another framed piece of their own.  
Josh was grinning like mad, looking around at the scenery as Tyler stared at their name tags on the table. Reaching across Josh, he switched them, letting out a giggle, sticking his right hand out to his boyfriend. 

“Now I'm you,” he explained, “and you're me.” 

Josh chuckled, shaking his hand, “Merton Poole,” he said, “nice to meet you.” 

“Hi, my name is Ellery Meyer.” 

Josh put on the straightest face he could muster.  
“Salutations.” 

Tyler laughed so hard, leaning over onto Josh's shoulder for a moment. 

“We should probably pick food now.” 

“Yeah,” Josh turned to look at the card in front of him. 

“And switch these back, “ Tyler offered. 

“No, don't,” Josh grinned. “Let's see if anyone notices.” 

“Hey, you wanna just order one of each and split?” 

“Yeah, sounds good.” Josh said, marking his menu steak, while Tyler marked lobster. 

“But I want my own mashed potatoes,” Tyler pouted. 

“Then just mark your card for mashed potatoes and see if they bring them to you.”  
Tyler nodded, going for it.  
“Good idea, Merton!” 

“Thanks, Ellery!” 

~

“And not only that...he sticks us all the way down here at the end of the table.” 

Andy chuckled, turning away from his vegan menu to handle another one of Joe's complaints.  
“One, I figured he did that because he talks to us all the time. If you look at the place settings, it makes sense,” he said. “And, two, I thought it was cool, like, Fall Out Boy is at each end of the table.” 

“Sure, Mr. I-Have-All-The-Answers, you could look at it that way.” Joe pointed a finger at him, “I think that's just what he wants us to think!” 

Andy chuckled again. 

“Pete wants us to think he's on our side and then he'll...” 

“...Yes?” 

“I don't know yet,” Joe pondered, “but it'll happen, you watch!” 

Andy stayed silent as he marked the options on his menu card as Joe let out another sigh. 

“I need a drink.” 

“I can't believe I'm about to say this, but, yes, you do.” Andy teased. 

Joe grabbed his friend's card off the table curiously, “What does yours say? I know it can't be the same as mine.” 

~

“Hey, everybody,” Pete tapped a spoon against his glass of water. “Before I forget, I want to thank Mr. Grover Norville for the lovely flower arrangements we have here.” 

The whole right side of the table clapped, causing the rest to follow as Ray smiled humbly. 

“I honestly can't say enough how much it means to me that you all actually showed up here so thank you again and...does anyone have anything they'd like to say?” 

Down at the other end of the table, Andy sat up leaning closer as he shouted, “If Emmett starts snapping his fingers, I'm out!” 

Most everyone at the table erupted in laughter and knowing no one else could top that, Pete held up his glass. 

“So I guess, here's to us and all the memories to be made at Lamont Manor!” 

The hosts grinned at the collective clinking of glasses and cheers that echoed throughout the dining room.

Maybe, just maybe, this weekend wasn't a mistake after all.


	8. You'll Have Some Weird People Sitting Next To You, You'll Think, 'How Did I Get Here Sitting Next To You?'

All conversations came to a halt as the waiters filed out through the swinging kitchen door to place the steaming dinner plates in front of each guest.  
Pete glanced around at everyone's happy, satisfied faces before digging into his own meal.  
He was still nervous hoping that everyone was enjoying it all and that they weren't just putting on for the show or for his sake.  
He glanced at the man to his left as small talk picked back up, pulling him from his internal concerns. 

“I'm so glad you could join us, Sebastian,” Patrick said to the man on his left. “How've you been?” 

The taller man looked cornered for a moment before realizing this was just Patrick he was talking to, he was essentially harmless.  
“Uh, thanks,” Ryan said, keeping his left arm clamped to his side so it wouldn't accidentally brush the man next to him. “I'm fine.” 

Patrick nodded with a small smile. “Have you been working on any new paintings lately? You know how Leon and I adore your vision,” he gestured with his hand before taking a bite of lobster.

Ryan raised a brow at the shorter man as he forced him into character, although he supposed it was preferable to the alternative of talking to Brendon.  
“I have, actually,” he replied, “and I was going to keep this one, but there's so many around the house. I guess you and Leon are welcome to take a look at it. I want it to go to someone I like so I can come see it every once in a while.” 

Patrick let out another chuckle as Ryan smirked and the blond couldn't help but notice Brendon unable to keep his eyes off Ryan as he talked. 

“We'll be happy to,” Patrick said, dabbing at his mouth with a napkin. “Is that your only piece right now?” 

“What about that project you told me about last week?” Brendon chimed in, “When you were late today I was worried there was something wrong with that.” 

“There was something wrong,” Ryan gritted his teeth together, “but it had nothing to do with the project.” 

Brendon sliced off a piece of his steak, sticking it aggressively in his mouth.”Oh, what did it have to do with then?” 

Ryan huffed, wishing he could ignore him and go back to being a fake painter. 

Beside them, Patrick could see the tension building and really didn't want any animosity interrupting Pete's dinner.  
“Now, now, you two. No lover's quarrels at the dinner table,” he warned, shutting them both up pretty quickly. 

~ 

“And when we get back to the city, I need you to drop off a finished work to my publisher,” Gerard said off hand as he took a bite of potatoes.  
Mikey whipped around at the sound of his brother's voice, trying to listen now as his mind had been somewhere else. 

“Jasper?” the older man asked, “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, sorry. I was just...thinking.” he excused, "I might have something to do that day"

"A delivery?" Gerard inquired, eyes narrowing, able to tell when his brother was lying.

"...maybe." 

"Jasper?"

"I have my own life too, you know! I have places to go, people to see." Mikey glared back.

"We talked about this-"

"You don't know nothin'!"

"Jasper Greenwood, Do not lie to me!" Gerard leaned over, appearing as if they didn't want to cause a scene.

"I'm meeting my friends down at that pool house on 39th Avenue. You know the one. It's all good." 

Gerard sat back, pressing his fingers to his forehead and rubbing his eyes.

"The one I specifically told you not to go back to. I do not want you going down there."

"What if I had a delivery to make there, huh? What would you do then?"

"I still wouldn't like it because the people that hang around there are not good people...but it'd be better because you'd be doing your job."

Mikey let out a long sigh, tossing his fork down.

"You know who I see down there almost every time I'm down there?"

"Who?" Gerard asked wiping his face with his napkin.

"Your new friend, Torri. He's there constantly! One time I even saw him roughin' up some guy in the alley behind the corner store!"

Gerard turned a skeptical eye on the man who was devouring a salad to his left.  
That information certainly pushed his curiosities about his profession from 'edgy business man' to ' definitely a mobster'.  
The older shook his head, unable to deal with those possibilities right now.  
He had a brother to protect.

"Look, Yes, I am getting to know Mr.Milano but he's not my baby brother. He can do what he wants or deems fitting, he's a grown man with...work to do."

"And I'm not?"

"Of course," Gerard smiled patting his arm, "But I'll always want to look after you. Okay? And I know what you do down there isn't work! You're not making money there...you're losing it!” 

Mikey gave a scoff, “I can lose money anywhere,”

“What was that?” Gerard asked, having not heard him.

“Love you, Brother,"

"I love you too, Jasper." Gerard smiled. "So you won't go down to the pool house?"

Mikey sighed again.

"I'll...consider your suggestion."

Gerard gave him another small smile as he went back to his dinner. 

"That's all I ask."

~

“So, how did you two meet?” Joe asked, taking a sip of wine, “Answer me that, Merton and Ellery.” 

Josh and Tyler both looked at each other, beaming. 

“You tell it this time, I like hearing you tell it,” said Josh.

“Aww, that's so thoughtful of you,” Tyler blushed. 

Josh nodded, “That's me,” he smirked, “always thoughtful.” 

“I met...Merton,” Tyler began, pointing at their still switched place cards, “at a pet store. This was probably, like, nine years ago.” 

Josh nodded in agreement beside him as he tried to hide his amusement.  
“You were looking to purchase an exotic pet, weren't you, Ellery?” 

Tyler let out a loud snicker, “I was! I was and so I sauntered into the store and I banged my fist on the counter and I said in a demanding voice, 'Excuse me...ma'am...lady...I'd like to adopt a...” 

“Capybara,” Josh reminded him. 

“Yes,” said Tyler, “She kindly explained to me that they didn't have those at that particular location.” 

“And I was standing behind....Ellery...and I made a scene and said how ridiculous it was they were out of stock because I was also coming to adopt a Capybara.” 

“Yeah, I remember, you flailed your hands around like this,” Tyler put his hands up in a waving motion in the air, “and then kicked over a birdcage that was for sale.” 

“Tell them what you thought of me,” Josh nudged his arm.

“I said to myself, that looks like a good guy to start a restaurant with,” Tyler pointed at Josh.

“So we adopted a golden retriever, instead of the capybara.” 

“Named him Jim,” Tyler grinned. 

“That part's true,” said Josh, so fast Joe barely caught it. 

Tyler nodded.  
“And started a restaurant, and now, fast forward! We're at this swanky party, talking to you guys.” 

“Go figure,” Josh shrugged. 

Joe stared at the pair for a moment.  
“That's an...interesting story,” he said. “Kind of sorry I asked now.” 

The other two missed his comment, having gone back to obsessing over if the mashed potatoes at their diner were better than the ones on their plates. 

Joe shook his head, still stuck on their crazy story as he felt Andy lean over in his direction, whispering in his ear.  
“They told me something completely different.” 

“I am not surprised,” Joe replied, “What I am surprised at is how you can get that stuff you call food past your face.” 

“It's good!” Andy chuckled, scooping up some of the couscous stuffed eggplant onto his fork, offering it to Joe, “Wanna try it?” 

Joe stuck his tongue out but leaned closer, surprising Andy and himself, taking a bite. 

Andy grinned, watching him taste. 

“Wow,” Joe smiled, too, “That's...actually really good.”

“It's the only vegan food you've tried isn't it?”

“It doesn't taste like what I think vegan food tastes like.” 

~

Patrick smiled, noticing the two down at the other end chatting away and-  
_Did Joe just try vegan food off Andy's fork?_

Going back to his own plate, the two men to his right struck up their own conversation. 

“You know Meyer Harris is back to his fights again,” Frank said, on the other side of Pete.

The older man raised his brow.  
“Little Mickey Cohen?' he chuckled, “He seems to enjoy it.” 

“Yeah,” Frank smiled, “That's why I didn't collect the money he owes us this month, he's trying to leave town. Wants to further his boxing career in Ohio.” 

Pete shook his head. “That's a real shame. He coulda been really good for this town someday,” 

Frank nodded in agreement.  
“Yeah, for the family, too.” 

“You gotta be proud of the kid though, for following his dreams,” Pete said.

Frank seemed as if he didn't completely agree.  
“He could've been great!” 

“Maybe he'll be great at what he loves,” Pete shrugged.

The shorter man scoffed.  
“He's fourteen! I could've shown him what was good for him! How to be successful!” he shouted, banging his fist on the table, causing some of the guests to stare, including Leon's husband. 

Pete leaned closer to Frank, a dangerous look in his eye.  
“Do I need to remind you who's in charge?” 

Frank dared to look away as Pete placed his hand on the handle of a steak knife.  
“Don't bother,” the younger man rolled his eyes. “You know how I feel about our boss.” 

Pete pinched the bridge of his nose.  
“You're lucky none of our associates are here to hear you say that,” he offered. “They'd take you out in a second!”

“You think I don't know that?!” Frank added, banging his fist on the table again, “I will defend the faith goin' down swingin'!” 

Pete let out a loud laughter that almost over powered the other conversations in the room.  
“Wow...using my own words against me? That's low, even for you, Fun Ghoul.” 

Frank smirked, proud of himself, “I don't mess around.” 

Pete glared at him.  
“Neither do I. We may be friends, Torri, but I'm still-” he cut himself off to speak lower so Emmett wouldn't hear, “the Consigliere. You're still just a soldier.” 

Frank retracted in his chair knowing this man could, and would, take him out if he thought it best for the 'family'. 

“I should be more.” Frank muttered.

Pete gave him a stern but understanding look. “Then work for it.” 

Frank went back to his salad as Pete sat back in his own spot, glancing at Patrick who was staring at them both in disbelief. 

And...anger? 

Pete smirked, leaning back towards Frank to see if that was causing these emotions in his 'husband'. 

He grinned as the blond watched him out of the corner of his eye.

“I have a tip for you, Torri...” Pete said, leaning closer to whisper in his ear. 

The two men chuckled together as Patrick let out a huff, dropping his fork onto his plate with a loud clang.  
He picked up his water, deciding two could play at that game, and he was going to ignore Leon now.  
Pete, however, didn't want Patrick feeling left out, and moved his hand under the table to rest on the younger man's knee.  
Patrick choked on the sip he had taken as Pete's fingers slid up higher to grasp his thigh, firm and possessive. 

“You okay, darling?” Pete asked with a smug expression. 

Patrick turned to him after dabbing at his suit with his napkin.

“Never better.” 

~

“I mean, and c'mon,” Ray said, waving his fork around angrily. “Who doesn't know the difference between a Daffodil and a Daylily?”  
The curly haired man nudged Mikey with his arm, but he was clearly not amused. 

“That's another good one,” Andy said politely on the other man's right. 

Ray nodded, taking another bite before turning to his left.  
“Hey Jasper, did I ever tell you the story about the time I was delivering my own flowers and I screwed it all up because I hadn't started using your amazing delivery service?”

Mikey raised his eyebrow, “I can't say I remember that one.”

Ray chuckled, “Well, you're in for a real treat then because it sure is a funny one!” 

Mikey nodded, trying to drown out the bizarre story with more bites of lobster as he attempted to pretend to listen, hoping the older man wouldn't notice. 

On the other side of Ray, Andy had been trying to pay attention to the story, but it was clear he was mostly telling Mikey so he felt like he was off the hook for flower tales for now.  
Joe picked up his glass beside him, mumbling something about 'needing a refill'.  
Andy noticed the bottle of wine ended up closer to him, though he wasn't sure why, and picked it up to pour Joe some more.

“I didn't even know you knew how to pour a real drink, Andy,” Joe teased, letting out a small burp. 

Andy rolled his eyes, setting the bottle back down as Joe took a sip. 

“I'm only encouraging this so I can have my way with you later,” the words left Andy's mouth before he could stop them. 

Joe gave him his signature funny grin before it turned into laughter between them both. 

“Wow, Hurley, I'm flattered...where did that even come from?” 

Andy shrugged, laughing still as he wished the redness in his cheeks would fade. 

Joe kept chuckling as he went back to his food, shaking his head and Andy smiled as he watched the other man for a moment longer. 

It was starting to make him wonder if those words he'd blurted out, weren't so far from the truth after all.

~

Josh smiled to himself as Tyler leaned over onto his shoulder, closing his eyes.  
It made Josh so happy to see him being comfortable around everyone and unashamed of being affectionate out in the open.

“Tired?” the drummer asked gently, running a hand over his right arm. 

Tyler nodded on his shoulder, without saying anything. 

“You gonna finish these?” Josh asked, picking up the bowl of roasted green beans. 

“Nope.” Tyler replied as Josh snatched his fork too, and began eating as Tyler began rapping a familiar song under his breath. 

“Are you singing Heavydirtysoul?”

Tyler smiled proudly, “Yeah.” 

“I meant to tell you. You were talking in your sleep last night.” 

Tyler sat up for a minute, blushing brightly. 

“No. No.” he shook his head in embarrassment. “What did I say?” 

Josh chuckled just thinking about it. 

“Tell me, please tell me,” Tyler begged as Josh set the bowl down once he finished. 

“It was adorable. You said, _'Josh...can we go to the ice cream shop after we go to the zoo tomorrow?'”_

Tyler hid his face in his hands, his giggles muffled. 

“I said, _'No Tyler, because we have that party to go to tomorrow'_ and then you said, _'Oh, okay, Joshy.'_ and you went back to sleep.” 

Josh reached over, running a hand over Tyler's hair as it was longer than he'd ever seen it. 

“Did I really do that?” 

“Talk in your sleep? Yeah.”

“Do I do that a lot? You've never said anything before.” 

Josh shrugged, “Enough.” 

“Enough?” 

“Enough to make it adorable.” 

“I thought you said everything I did was adorable?” Tyler looked down, batting his eyelashes. 

“Of course it is! You're Tyler Joseph,” Josh beamed. “What about me?” 

Tyler shrugged. 

“You're alright,” he replied, “but you know who's super adorable?”

“Who?” Josh asked. “Do I know him? Where does he live?” 

“He lives pretty close to me. He's like, the king of adorableness.” 

“I don't know if that's a word.” 

“It is now,” Tyler replied. 

“So tell me about him.” 

“He plays the drums. He's in this band...” 

“Oh, really?” 

“Yep,” Tyler nodded, “And his name is Josh Dun, aka, Ellery Meyer.” 

“He sounds hot, hope you two are happy together,” Josh said with a smirk. 

Tyler lay his head back down on Josh's shoulder. 

“So happy.” 

~

Brendon couldn't help the frown on his face as he observed the couple on his left.  
He had wanted a companion all day and the one he had was making him feel even lonelier.  
Letting out a sigh, he sat up in his chair, deciding they couldn't just be silent any longer. 

“How are you liking your lobster?” Brendon struck up a safe conversation, “I know you always liked it...Sebastian.” 

Ryan sighed, rolling his eyes, having hoped he wouldn't have to talk through the rest of the meal. 

“It's...actually really good.” 

“You thought it wouldn't be?” 

“No...I just...wasn't in the mood.” 

Brendon's face fell again as he took that response personally.

“How about yours?” 

Brendon's eyes found the other man immediately, unsure if he actually spoke or if he was even speaking to him. 

“It's good!” Brendon beamed, even though Ryan wouldn't look at him now. “These potatoes though, are like, some of the best fucking potatoes I've ever had.” 

Ryan nodded slowly, finishing off his own dish.

“I have to agree.” 

~

Patrick smiled as he watched Pete, sitting back and appreciating the scene the dinner table gave.  
Everyone chatting and finishing off their meals, enjoying each other's company.  
It reminded Patrick so much of times in the studio over the years when he had just recorded a verse and it was everything Pete wanted.  
The look on his face was always pure magic and made the blond emotional on more than one occasion.  
Tonight was certainly no different and he reached forward to take a sip from his glass to keep from tearing up in front of everyone. 

“You feel better?” Patrick asked, as Pete turned a grin on him. 

“If you mean, am I over my 'wanting to cancel the party' moment from earlier, then the answer's yes,” Pete leaned over to whisper. 

Patrick gave him a supportive smile.  
"This has to be one of my favorite ideas you've ever had, Peter Wentz." he leaned over to whisper, "With or without the 'shipping'." 

Pete beamed back into Patrick's eyes that were a mesmerising shade in the light of the chandelier. "Mine too."

"Took you long enough!" Patrick teased as Pete leaned over, nudging his shoulder gently. 

"Having everyone together like this is...incredible. If you told me years ago, that we'd all be doing something like this together? Staying here in this beautiful house? All of us? Together? I never would've believed it."

"Me either!" Patrick chuckled. "But I'm...so glad we are."

Pete nodded and Patrick watched proudly as his co-host picked up a spoon to tap his glass again. 

“Who's ready for dessert?”


End file.
